Rob: Why does it have to be Goofy? Why couldn't it be Mickey? Mickey's an icon.
Mike: What do you want? You're tall.

Trent: Oh Mikey you don't want all that "Pirates Of The Caribbean" horseshit, or the "Rock and Roll Grunge Tip". Guys like you and me gotta kick it here, old school.
Mike: Oh this is definitely 'old school'. This place is dead.

Sue: Just because I had the balls to stand up to those guys...
Trent: Like fuckin' House of Pain was gonna do anything?

Sue: What? Come guys I couldn't back down, that guy called me a bitch we kept our "rep" bro.
Charles: Man, fuck "rep" I got a call back tomorrow!

Sue: [re: NHL Hockey game] This is bullshit, such bullshit!
Mike: The Kings suck in this game, you should play another team.
Sue: I took the Kings to the cup.
Trent: Yea, against the computer with the offsides off.
Sue: They are a finesse team.
Trent: L.A. is a fucking bitch team!

So let me get this straight. The party started at eight. Why are we going to a bar at ten?

Rob

Samantha Newman - Age 5: Daddy, how much longer are you going to live?
Michael Newman: [to cellphone] One minute.
Samantha Newman - Age 5: One minute?

Mike: Hi.
Lorraine: Hi.
Mike: I'm Mike.
Lorraine: Hi Mike, I'm Lorraine.
Mike: Like the quiche.
Lorraine: Like the quiche? That's a really original joke.
Mike: I like quiche.
Lorraine: I thought real men didn't like quiche?
Mike: Well, it seems my reputation had preceded me here.
Lorraine: You not a real man?
Mike: Not lately.

[Mike gets Nikki's machine at 2:30 in the morning]
Mike: Hi, uh, Nikki, this is Mike. I met you at the, um, at the Dresden tonight. I just called to say that I had a great time...and you should call me tomorrow, or in two days, whatever. Anyway, my number is 213-555-4679 -
[beeps]
Mike: [calls back] Hi, Nikki, this is Mike again. I just called 'cause it sounded like your machine might've cut me off when I, before I finished leaving my number. Anyway, uh, and, y'know, and also, sorry to call so late, but you were still at the Dresden when I left so I knew I'd get your machine. Anyhow, uh, my number's 21--
[beeps]
Mike: [calls back] 213-555-4679. That's it. I just wanna leave my number. I didn't want you to think I was weird or desperate, or... we should just hang out and see where it goes cuz it's nice and, y'know, no expectations. Ok? Thanks a lot. Bye bye.
[hangs up]
Mike: [walks away, then walks back and calls again] I just got out of a 6-year relationship, Ok? That should help explain why I'm acting so weird. I just wanted you to know that. It's not you, it's me. I'm sorry... This is Mike.
[hangs up]
Mike: [calls back] Hi, Nikki, this is Mike. Could you just call me when you get in? I'm gonna be up for awhile and I'd just rather speak to you in person instead of trying to fit it all into-
[the machine beeps]
Mike: Fuck! [calls back] Uh, Nikki? Mike. It's uh, uh, it's just, uh, this just isn't working out. I think you're great, but maybe we should just take some time off from each other. It's not you, it's me. It's what I'm going through, alright? It's uh... it's only been 6 months-
Nikki: [picks up] Mike?
Mike: Nikki? Great! Did you just walk in or were you listening all along?
Nikki: Don't ever call me again.
Mike: Wow. I guess you're home.

Trent: Baby, that was money! Tell me that wasn't money.
Mike: That was so demeaning.
Trent: She smiled, baby.
Mike: I can't believe what an asshole you are.
Trent: Did she, or did she not smile.
Mike: She was smiling at what an asshole you are.
Trent: She was smiling at how money I am, baby.

Michael Newman: Sorry, i'm late , sir. Some moron in a red Lamborghini parked in my spot so...
Prince Habeeboo: Prince Habeeboo, Drive red Lamborghini.
Michael Newman: Red Lamborghini? I meant blue Ferrari.

Hey everybody, we're all gonna get laid.

Al Czervik

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