June 8, 2011 
I love this movie as if it were a love child produced from an ill-fated yet delicious union with Robert Downey Jr. It makes me happy in my comedo bone.
It makes me want to grow a curly moustache and smoke a sea-captain pipe.
It makes me want to dance in long-johns painted with prancing puppies.
No, scratch that. I’d never fucking do that. Actually, I’d take a shotgun to whoever dances in long-johns painted with prancing puppies. Then I’d watch Anchorman, the corpse cooling beside me – a coffee table for my popcorn and soda.
“Boy, that escalated quickly.”
“It jumped up a notch.”
You’re so wise. You’re like a miniature Buddha, covered in hair.
This makes me happy in my Baxter bone.
Brian Fantana: It’s called Sex Panther by Odeon. It’s illegal in nine countries… Yep, it’s made with bits of real panther, so you know it’s good.
Ron Burgundy: It’s quite pungent.
Brian Fantana: Oh yeah.
Ron Burgundy: It’s a formidable scent… It stings the nostrils. In a good way.
Brian Fantana: Yep.
Ron Burgundy: Brian, I’m gonna be honest with you, that smells like pure gasoline.
Brian Fantana: They’ve done studies, you know. 60% of the time, it works every time.
Fantana cracks! Love. that. scene.
Anchorman rocks! “I’m kind of a big deal.”
Priceless.
Will wuccles.