So many to pick from.
"Go Team Retard!"
" . . . unmistakable smell of mangled octopus giblets."
"I refuse to call it a blog, because that sounds like the sort of creature that lives at the bottom of a river and communicates only in farts."
Honorable mention bit with Terry and Gonad, from the Alone in the Dark Review, because that bit has actually affected my speech. Whenever I compare two things, one obviously good and one obviously bad, I refer to them as Terry and Gonad.
My favorite, however, is earlier in that same review: "Fuck those bereaved bastards who think I'm sort sort of sweary ninja-for-hire . . . "