You know me. The talking and the fucking go hand in hand.

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Okay, so not only are you a cadaverous lay, you also have a shitty taste in movies.

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Do whatever you have to do. Beg, plead, cry. Get down on bended knee. ’cause I’m telling you, no amount of top-shelf pussy can compete with the love of a good woman.

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For a radical environmentalist such as yourself, this whole evening must have given you a clit-boner.

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Why would I wanna get to know a guy who’s so in love with himself that he hangs out in a bookstore reading his own work.

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That’s the kind of bling you like, right? Dead people’s jewelry?

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I consider that whole area – general area – my cock. Like, from my knees to my nipples – cock.

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And that’s the thing with you, Hank. One never knows what to expect from you or your dong.

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My vagina looks like downtown baghdad right now.

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I just threw up in my mouth a little. You had 20 centuries of halfway decent verse to choose from and you’re going with some minor Frosty?

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Look, I don’t want to take sides here, but I want to say, for the record, categorically, never.. never stick a finger up a grown man’s ass without warning. Don’t do it.

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What? I’m the asshole. Just because I say what’s on everybody’s mind?

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Let’s party while this bitch can still get wet.

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If you keep cracking jokes and taking another drink and pretending that life is one big, stupid party, you will miss everything.

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You know, I dropped an Advil on the floor earlier and couldn’t find it. I thought maybe you could crawl around and look for it.

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