Creed Bratton (played by Creed Bratton, formerly of the band The Grass Roots) is one of the funniest characters on The Office and TV in general.  His blog, Creed Thoughts, is also great:



You may not have known this, but I’m one of the most-feared names in toe wrestling.  I’ve been training a lot this year, and if I don’t medal at the Toe Wrestling Championship, it’ll be a real drag, man.  I guess there’s always the shin-kicking contest to look forward to…

Nobody steals from Creed Bratton and gets away with it.  The last person to do this disappeared.  His name:  Creed Bratton.

Take a look at your friends.  If you don’t think you could pull off a decent white-collar crime together, it’s time to make some replacements.

I found this groovy badge at a hotel that says “Do Not Disturb.”  I’ve been wearing it around my neck, but it’s not working.  Guess I need to find coworkers who speak English.

People always seem to know it’s laundry day when I wear my shower curtain to work.

I tip waiters extremely well: tips on growing tomatoes, tips for Minecraft, tips for a quickie, tips for a zombie apocalypse, tips on juicing, tips for a curvy body…you name it, I got a tip.

I know for a fact that at least one person has stolen from this grocery store today: me.

Don’t you hate it when you pull that loose thread on your shirt and all your stolen croissants fall out?

I’d have to say my best profile is when I’m hanging upside-down in my gravity boots.  Gives my cheeks a nice rosy glow.

Hope everyone can make it to my rap battle this weekend.

Picked up a digital camera the other day, just in time for summer.  I hope the guy who owns it doesn’t miss it too much.

I’m a romantic guy.  Always have been.  Fell in love for the first time in the fourth grade with the truancy officer.

So these “haters” – will they just keep hating?  Not sure I get this generation…

Nothin’ good on the tube.  Guess I’ll have to watch a book again.

In a pinch, butter also makes a great moisturizer.

I think the greatest compliment you can give to someone you first meet is, “you look way better in person than you do in binoculars.”

Tried to high-five myself but just ended up clapping, which was still good.

Everybody listen up: when you’re e-mailing me, a lot of you are forgetting to add “I Love You.”  It’s rude.

What my guests heard my dog say was “bark bark bark howl,” but they’re wrong on so many levels.

I once knew a 300-million-dollar lotto winner.  Shared his winnings with his wife and sister.  That’s one lucky lady.

As long as you close your eyes, every British gal’s a hottie.

I already won the lottery.  I was born in the US of A, baby.  And as a backup, I have a Swiss passport.

Catching flies with your hands is fun, but catching frogs with your feet is a lot more satisfying.

I like to wear two undershirts most days because you never know when you’ll walk into a strip poker game.

Sometime I’ll do shots of mouthwash.  It gets me a little tipsy and gives me great breath.

The only difference between me and a homeless man is this job.  I will do whatever it takes to survive.  Like I did when I was a homeless man.

A lot of jazz cats are blind, but they can play the piano like nobody’s business.  I’d like to put a piano in front of Pam, without her glasses, and see what happens.  I’d also like to see her topless.

Just pretend like we’re talking until the cops leave.

Wish everyone would stop saying “it’s hotter than hell out.”  Hell is a lot hotter.

Two eyes, two ears, a chin, a mouth, 10 fingers, two nipples, a butt, two kneecaps, a penis.  I have just described to you the Loch Ness Monster.  And the reward for its capture?  All the riches in Scotland.  So I have one question: why are you here?

Who decided that we need both North and South Dakota?  It seems like a lot of wasted paperwork to me.

Beautiful morning at Dunder-Mifflin.  Or as I like to call it: Great Bratton.

So there I am, minding my own business, and Darnell offers me three bucks.  All I gotta do is walk by Andy and do this (makes a cutting-throat motion).  Darnell’s a chump.  I would’ve done it for anything.  I’ve done a lot more for a lot less.

I run a small fake-ID company from my car with a laminating machine that I swiped from the sheriff’s station.

I’m not offended by homosexuality.  In the 60’s I made love to many, many women – often outdoors in the mud and the rain.  It’s possible that a man slipped in.  There’d be no way of knowing.

I’ve been involved in a number of cults, both as a leader and a follower.  You have more fun as a follower, but you make more money as a leader.

Oh, I don’t steal things all the time.  It’s just something I do.  I stopped caring a long time ago.

Creed Bratton has never declared bankruptcy.  When Creed Bratton gets in trouble, he transfers his debt to: (holds up fake passport) William Charles Scheider.

You don’t go by Monopoly, man!  That game is nuts!  You don’t just pick up “get out of jail free” cards!  Those things cost thousands!

(Describing Dwight’s pepper-spraying Roy) I remember it was very late at night, like 11:00, 11:30.  Big fella comes in screaming about God-knows-what.  I think maybe Halpert had stolen his car, something like that.  So the big fella pulls out a sock filled with nickels.  Then Schrute grabs a can of hairspray and a lighter…

You ever notice how you can only ooze two things?  Sexuality and pus.  Man, I tell ya.

I sprout mung beans on a damp paper towel in my desk drawer.  Very nutritious, but they smell like death.

(In reference to women getting fake boobs) I find it offensive.  Au naturel, baby.  That’s how I like ‘em.  Swing low, sweet chariots.