Brian O'HalloranQuotes

Dante: Can you feel it?

Randal: Feel what?

Dante: Today is the first day of the rest of our lives.

Randal: [[w:List of ethnic slurs|porch monkeys] I don't mind people snickering at the stupid uniform I've got to wear. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna let some self-righteous, lucky turd come in here and treat me and Dante like we're a couple of fucking ].

Dante: [''To black female patron''] Randal! Uh, I'm- I'm sorry.

Black female patron: He... He didn't really just say what I think he said.

Randal: What? Porch monkeys?

Dante: Randal!

Becky: What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Black female patron: I want my money back right now.

Becky: Of course. Um, you know what? Here, take this on us.

Black female patron: Oh, no, no, no. I'm not eating something that was cooked by some cracker-ass hate-monger.

Black female patron's husband: I will. Baby, you can't taste racism.

Randal: What racism? Porch monkeys?!

Black female patron: You little mother...

Black female patron's husband: Calm down, champ. It ain't worth it.

Black female patron: You're lucky my husband doesn't jump across this counter and knock your teeth in.

Randal: Why?

Black female patron's husband: [''Wife starts slapping him''] Yeah, baby, why? I mean, ain't like he called us porch monkeys. Hey, hey! Baby, stop hitting on me! See, the judge told you about that. You got to stop putting your hands on people.

Becky: Here, take this. This is your money. Please, take the food on us. We're sorry.

Black female patron: Oh, uh-uh. I'm gonna write to the paper about this, and all y'all getting fired up in here. Jesus!

Black female patron's husband: [''Wife throws it on ground''] I'm gonna take the food. Thank you very much. Damn! Fuck porch monkey...

Becky: Thanks. Come again.

Black female patron's husband: Don't leave me, baby!

Becky: Are you out of your fucking mind?!

Randal: What?! What's the big deal? Since when is it a crime to say porch monkey?

Becky: [[forever] Oh, since, I don't know, ]?!

Randal: Why?

Dante: [[black people] Because porch monkey is a racial slur against ]!

Randal: [[w:Nigger|nigger] No, it's not; ] is.

Dante: [''Horrified''] Randal!

Elias: Did Mr. Randal just call Mr. Dante a nigger?

Becky: Shut up, Elias!

Randal: I didn't just call Dante a nigger, I just said that nigger is a racial slur.

Dante: So is porch monkey!

Randal: Oh, it is not! Coon, spook, spade, moolie, jigaboo, nig-nog; those are racial slurs. Porch monkey is not.

Becky: [''points at Randal''; ''storms off''] I'm going to pretend that this conversation didn't happen. Elias, go pick up that fucking mess. And you are this close to getting shit-canned! Shoot me now!

Dante: What are you doing? Are you trying to get fired?

Randal: Since when did porch monkey become a racial slur?

Dante: When ignorant racists started using it 100 years ago!

Randal: Oh, bullshit. My grandmother used to call me a porch monkey all the time when I was a kid because I'd sit on the porch and stare at my neighbors.

Dante: [[w:Affection|term of endearment] Despite the fact that your grandmother used it as a ] for you, it's still a racial slur. It would be like your grandmother calling you a little kike.

Randal: [[Jewish; [w:Antisemitism|they'd put the sheenie curse on me] Oh, it is not. Besides, my grandmother had nothing but the utmost respect for the ] community. She used to tell me to always be nice to the Jewish kids, or ].

Dante: WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?!

Randal: What?

Dante: Sheenie is a racial slur, too!

Randal: Oh, it is not!

Dante: Yes, it is!

Randal: Well, she never called any Jews sheenies, she just said "sheenie curse" a lot. It was cute.

Dante: It wasn't cute, it was racist!

Randal: [''thinks for a moment''; ''Dante is flabbergasted''] I disagree, man. She was just an old-timer. That's the way people talked back then. It didn't mean they were racists. But my grandmother did refer to a broken beer bottle once as a nigger knife. You know, come to think of it, my grandmother was kind of a racist.

Dante: You think?!

Randal: Well, I still don't think that porch monkey should be considered a racial term. I've always used it to describe lazy people, not lazy black people. I think if we really tried, we could take back porch monkey and save it.

Dante: [''Fed up''] It can't be saved, Randal. The sole purpose for its creation, the only reason it exists in the first place, is to disparage an entire race. And even if it could be saved, you couldn't save it because you're not black!

Randal: Well, listen to you--telling me I can't do something because of the color of my skin. You're the racist, man!

Dante: Well, I don't know about this, Randal. I mean, how do we know this isn't a hoax? Like, were there any pictures on the Web site?

Randal: Strangely, no. But if you've seen pics of one chick sucking off a donkey, you've seen them all.

Dante: Well, what if you haven't ever seen pics of anything like that?

Randal: Well, then you must be as blind as Anne Frank. Cause what's the point in having an Internet connection if you're not using it to look at weird, fucked-up pictures of dirty sex you'll never have yourself?

Randal: Holy shit. You know, I've never pieced this together until right now. You're a virgin, aren't you?

Elias: You know I have a girlfriend, Randal.

Randal: Oh, yeah. What's her name again?

Elias: Myra Hodgkiss.

Randal: You made her up, didn't you? That name sounds so made-up.

Elias: No.

Randal: Seriously, Elias, have you and Myra had sex yet?

Elias: Well, that's just kind of personal, Randal.

Randal: Come on! I tell you about my sex life all the time. I let you smell my fingers after I fucked Taton Weathers kid sister in the office that one time, didn't I?

Elias: You kind of made me smell your fingers.

Randal: Maybe you just don't like the pussy. Maybe you're all about the cock.

Elias: No, no, I like the pussy.

Randal: So come on. Did Myra ever give you a crack at her crack or what?

Elias: Well, not that it's any of your business, Randal, but she can't.

Randal: Why? Jesus, Elias, come on. You got to start trusting me more. Because once Dante's gone, you're gonna be my new best friend.

Elias: No, I'm not.

Randal: Who the fuck else am I gonna hang out with? It's gonna be you and me, buddy. So come on. You got to start trusting me more. Open up and tell me shit. Like why haven't you fucked Myra yet?

Elias: [Sighs] Well, we can't because of Pillow Pants.

Randal: What the fuck's Pillow Pants?

Elias: Pillow Pants is a little troll who lives in her pussy. Pillow Pants is her pussy troll. Duh. You know how every girl's parents put a pussy troll in them when the girls are young to keep them from having premarital sex?

Randal: Sure.

Elias: Well, Myra's is named Pillow Pants. And so, even though she totally wants to have sex with me, Myra says if I put my thing in her, Pillow Pants will bite it off. So I got to wait until Pillow Pants gets peed out of her body on her 21st birthday before we can have sex.

Randal: And Myra told you this?

Elias: Boyfriends and girlfriends talk to each other about sex stuff, Randal. You'd know this if you ever had a girlfriend.

Randal: Have you and Myra even kissed yet?

Elias: We would have already, if it wasn't for Lister Fiend.

Randal: Lister Fiend is her mouth troll, isn't it?

Elias: Women.

Randal: I'll be right back.

Randal: You are never gonna believe what Elias just told me.

Dante: [''Motions head to front''] Look who it is, Randal.

Lance: Randal Graves. You work here, too? Jesus. Anyone else from our graduating class back there?

Randal: Well, well, well... Pickle Fuck.

Lance: Man, look at you two fun-ployees. Nothing's changed. You know, I'll bet dollars to donuts, when you two aren't fighting about who shit first, Han or Greedo, you can still muster up enough energy to make fun of other people.

Randal: Yeah. So hurry up and order and get out of here, so we can make fun of you.

Lance: Oh, I don't know if you're in a position to make fun of anyone anymore, Graves. flipping burgers? Before that, I'd heard it was the Quick Stop for, what, like, ten years?

Randal: We can't all be Internet millionaires.

Elias: Who's an Internet millionaire?

Randal: Elias, this is Lance Dowds. We went to high school together. A few years ago, he built a search engine which compiles the lowest prices of merchandise you can buy online. You might have heard of it... MadDucketts.com.

Elias: [[w:Ạmạzoṇ 〈ċompạṇy〉|sell to Amazon for, like, 20 million bucks] Didn't that just ]?

Randal: Yeah, but back before he was the Mad Ducketts guy, he was just Pickle fuck. You see, freshman year, the seniors would hunt us down and put us through what they called initiations. They'd stuff us into lockers or throw us in the girls shower room naked. But Lance here got the worst of it. The seniors yanked down his pants, and shoved a pickle up his ass, and made him walk ten feet. The pickle fell out before he hit the ten-foot mark. He had to take a bite of it, reinsert it and walk again.

Elias: Ew...

Randal: Yeah, but don't worry... he made it. His pickle was small enough to stay wedged after only four bites.

Lance: I'll bet you're the only guy in the world who still remembers that, Graves.

Randal: Oh, I bet you still remember it pretty vividly... Pickle fucker.

Elias: [[w:Fandom (website)|Do you have any interest in building the ultimate fan site for both The Lord of the Rings and The Transformers? Because I'd moderate it for free] ].

Randal: [[w:Dungeons & Dragons|D&D; [w:GoBots|GoBots] Ease up, Pillow Pants. The dude's not into your ], ] bullshit.

Lance: [[W:Kmart|Kmart; [w:The Transformers|Transformers] Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don't insult the guy. The GoBots are like the ] of ].

Elias: Thank you! I keep telling them that.

Lance: [[w:Email|here's my e-mail address] Here, ]. Drop me a line with some of your ideas.

Elias: Cool.

Lance: Okay, let's see. What do I want? Uh... how about a Skinny Calf with cheese and a Diet Coke?

Randal: [''Puts dead flies burger, puts urinal ice in drink and hands order to Lance''] I'll get your order. Here you go.

Lance: Well, that was fast.

Randal: And fresh.

Lance: Thanks.

Randal: Come again.

Jay-Jay: [''Enters''] Yo, let's wrap this up so I can get my Cow Tipper on.

Lance: [''Hands order to Jay-Jay''; ''To Randal''] You know what? Take mine. Something tells me I'm not gonna like it, am I?

Jay-Jay: [''Takes order from Lance''; ''Leaves''] Wow, thanks, Pickle fucker. Yo, so Pickle fuck gave us free eats!

Lance: [''Imitates guns''; ''Chuckles and leaves''] You know, I don't eat fast food. It's not good for you. But when I heard you guys were actually working here, well, I just had to see it for myself. It's kind of nice having that kind of free time. Just like it's kind of comforting to know that some things never change. Take care, clerks. Ooh, sick burn.

Randal: Fuck this. Let me borrow your car.

Dante: You're supposed to be working.

Randal: I got to get out of here for a few minutes.

Shannon: That's it. You're dead, mallrat. I'm gonna fuck you up beyond repair!

Brodie: Ladies and gentlemen, this tall drink of water headed my way is a pillar of the shopping community who informed me earlier today of a nefarious plan of his to screw my girlfriend in an extremely uncomfortable place.

Gill: What, like the back of a Volkswagen?

Brandi: Suitor Number Three, is your kiss like a soft breeze, a firm handshake, or a jackhammer?

Gill: Definitely a jackhammer. I'm in there with some pressure, and when I'm done you're not the same as before. You're changed.

Brodie: Where do you come up with this shit?! That is the cheesiest response to an honest question I've ever heard! I saw you kiss and it wasn't even anything like that!

Gill: Who the hell did you see me kiss?

Brodie: Some dude backstage. I don't know who he was, but he seemed unimpressed.

Gill: I didn't kiss any guy backstage. I swear! I'm not gay.

Brodie: Hey, suitor-ette, this guy's a homo-phobe! You heard how repulsed he sounded! Is this the kind of guy you wanna spend a vacation with, this hate-monger?

Gill: I don't hate gay people!

Brodie: So you love them?

Gill: Yes! I mean, no.

Brodie: Textbook closet case. Self-loather. Can't be comfortable with his own sexuality.

Brandi: Second suitor, would you ever make whoopee in public?

Brodie: [points to Rene and smirks] Already did once today. But my cousin Walter jerked off in public once. True story. He was on a plane to New Mexico when all of the sudden the hydraulics went. The plane started spinning around, going out of control. So he decides it's all over and whips it out and starts beating it right there. So all the other passengers take a cue from him and they start whipping it out and beating like mad. So all the passengers are beating off, plummeting to their certain doom, when all of the sudden, the hydraulics kick back in, and the plane rights itself. It lands safely and everyone puts their pieces or, whatever you know, away and deboard. Nobody mentions the phenomenon to anyone else.

Gill: Well, did he cum, or what?

Brodie: Jesus Christ, man! There's just some things you don't talk about in public!

Dante: You get me slapped with a fine, you argue with the customers and I have to patch everything up. You get us thrown out of a funeral by violating a corpse, and then to top it all off, you ruin my relationship. I mean, what's your encore? Do you, like, anally rape my mother while pouring sugar in my gas tank? You know what the real tragedy about all this is? I'm not even supposed to be here today!

Randal: [mimicking] Oh, fuck you! Fuck you, pal! Jesus, there you go. Trying to pass the buck. I'm the source of all your misery. Who closed the store to play hockey? Who closed the store to go to a wake? Who tried to win back his ex-girlfriend without even discussing how he felt with his present one? You want to blame somebody? Blame yourself! "I'm not even supposed to be here today." You sound like an asshole! Jesus, nobody twisted your arm to be here. You're here of your own volition. You like to think the weight of the world rests on your shoulders, like this place would fall apart if Dante wasn't here. Jesus, you overcompensate for havin what's basically a monkey's job. You push fuckin buttons! Anybody could waltz in here and do our jobs. You, you're so obsessed with making it seem so much more epic, so much more important than it really is. Christ, you work in a convenience store, Dante, and badly, I might add. I work in a shitty video store, badly as well. You know, that guy Jay's got it right, man, he has no delusions about what he does, what he is. Us? We like to make ourselves seem so much more important than the people that come in here to buy a paper or God forbid, cigarettes. We look down on them as if we're so advanced. Well, if we're so fuckin advanced, what are we doin working here?

Dante: I can't fuckin believe you!

Randal: I'm tellin you, it wasn't my fault!

Dante: You knocked the casket over, for Christ's sake!

Randal: I was just leanin on it! It was an accident!

Dante: Like someone knocks a casket over on purpose!

Randal: So the casket fell over, big deal!

Dante: Her fuckin body fell out!

Randal: Just put it back in. It's not like it matters if she breaks somethin'!

Dante: Just go. Just go open the video store!

Randal: Shut the fuck up, junkie!

Dante: Just go. Just go open the video store.

Jay: Yeah, cock-smoking clerk!

Dante: And how many times have I told you not to be dealing in front of the store?

Jay: I'm not dealin', man. What you talkin bout?

Customer: Yo, you got anything, man?

Jay: Yeah, man. What you want, man?

Dante: Thanks for puttin me in such a tough spot. You're a good friend.

Randal: She was pretty young, huh?

Dante: Twenty-two. Just like us.

Randal: An embolism in a pool.

Dante: What an embarrassing way to die.

Randal: That's nothing compared to how my cousin Walter died.

Dante: How'd he die?

Randal: He broke his neck.

Dante: That's embarrassing?

Randal: He broke his neck trying to suck his own dick.

Dante: Shut the hell up.

Randal: I swear.

Dante: Stop it.

Randal: Bible truth.

Dante: Oh my God.

Randal: Come on. Haven't you ever tried to suck your own dick?

Dante: No!

Randal: Yeah, right. You're so repressed.

Dante: Because I never tried to suck my own dick?

Randal: No, because you won't admit to it. As if a guy's a fuckin pervert because he tries to go down on himself. You're as curious as the rest of us, pal. You've tried it.

Dante: Who found him?

Randal: My cousin? My aunt found him. It was a mess. He was on his bed, with his legs doubled over himself. My aunt freaked out.

Dante: Man, he had his dick in his mouth?

Randal: Yeah. Balls restin on his lips.

Dante: Wow! He really made it.

Randal: Yeah, but at what a price?

Dante: I could never reach.

Randal: Reach what?

Dante: Y'know.

Randal: What, your dick?

Dante: Yeah, like you said. I guess everyone gets curious and tries it sometime.

Randal: I never tried it. Fuckin pervert.

Dante: You gotta watch the store. I gotta go to this.

Randal: Wait, wait, wait. Has it ever occurred to you that I might be bereaved as well?

Dante: You hardly knew her!

Randal: True, but do you know how many people are gonna be there? All of our old classmates, to say the least.

Dante: Stop. This is beneath even you.

Randal: I'm not gonna miss what is probably gonna be the social event of the season.

Dante: You hate people!

Randal: But I love gatherings. Isn't it ironic?

Dante: Did you ever notice how all the prices end in nine? Damn, that's eerie.

Randal: [looking at a pornographic magazine] You know how much wage the average jizz-mopper make per hour?

Dante: What's a jizz-mopper?

Randal: He's the guy that cleans up the nudie-booths after each guy that jerks off.

Dante: Nudie booth?

Randal: Yeah, nudie booth. You've never been to a nudie booth?

Randal: Oh man, it's great. You go into this booth and there's this glass between you and these chicks, and they put on a show for you for like ten bucks.

Dante: What kind of show?

Randal: Think of the weirdest, craziest shit you'd like to see chicks do. These chicks do it all. They insert things into any opening on their body. Any opening!

Dante: Can we not talk about this now?

Randal: The jizz-mopper's job is to clean it up after each guy shoots a load. Practically everybody does it right on the window, and I don't know if you noticed or not, but cum leaves streaks if you don't clean it right away.

Highly-Offended Customer: I will never come to this place again.

Dante: Excuse me?

Highly-Offended Customer: Using filthy language in front of the customers. You both should be fired!

Dante: I'm sorry. I guess we kinda got carried away.

Highly-Offended Customer: Well, I don't know if "sorry" can make up for it. You've highly offended me.

Randal: [shows customer the magazine's centerfold; the customer runs out screaming] Well, you think that's offensive, check this out! I think you can see her kidneys!

Dante: You know, that article's accurate. Caitlin's really getting married!

Randal: You know what I just watched?

Dante: Me pulling a can off some moron's fist?

Randal: [[Return of the Jedi] ].

Dante: Didn't you hear me? Caitlin is really getting married!

Randal: [[The Empire Strikes Back] Which did you like better? Jedi or ]?

Dante: Empire.

Randal: Blasphemy.

Dante: Empire had the better ending. I mean, Luke gets his hand cut off, finds out Vader's his father, uh, Han gets frozen and taken away by Boba Fett. It ends on such a down note. I mean, that's what life is, a series of down endings. All Jedi had was a bunch of Muppets.

Randal: There was something else going on in Jedi. I ever noticed it til today. They built another Death Star, right?

Dante: Yeah.

Randal: Now, the first one was completed and fully operational before the Rebels destroyed it.

Dante: Luke blew it up. Give credit where credit is due.

Randal: And the second one was still being built when they blew it up.

Dante: Compliments of Lando Calrissian.

Randal: Something just never sat right with me that second time around. I could never put my figure on it, but something just wasn't right.

Dante: And you figured it out?

Randal: The first Death Star was manned by the Imperial Army. The only people onboard were stormtroopers, dignitaries. Imperials.

Dante: Basically.

Randal: So when they blew it up, no problem. Evil's punished.

Dante: And the second time around?

Randal: The second time around, it wasn't even done being built yet. It was still under construction.

Dante: So?

Randal: So a construction job of that magnitude would require a helluva lot more manpower than the Imperial army had to offer. I'll bet there were independent contractors working on that thing: plumbers, aluminum siders, roofers...

Dante: And not just Imperials. Is that what you're getting at?

Randal: Exactly. In order to get it built quickly and quietly, they'd hire anybody who could do the job. Do you think the average stormtrooper knows how to install a toilet main? All they know is killing and white uniforms.

Dante: All right, so they bring in independent contractors. Why are you so upset with its destruction?

Randal: All those innocent contractors hired to do the job were killed! Casualties of a war they had nothing to do with. All right, look, you're a roofer, and some juicy government contract comes your way. You got the wife and kids and the two-story in suburbia. This is a government contract, which means all sorts of benefits. All of a sudden these left-wing militants blast you with lasers and wipe out everyone within a three-mile radius. You didn't ask for that. You have no personal politics. You're just trying to scrape out a living.

Roofer: Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt, but what are you two talking about?

Randal: The ending of Return of the Jedi.

Dante: My friend here is trying to convince me that any independent contractors who were working on the uncompleted Death Star were innocent victims when it was destroyed by the Rebels.

Roofer: Well, I'm a contractor myself. I'm a roofer—Dunn and Ready Home Improvements—and speaking as a roofer, I can tell you a roofer's personal politics comes into play heavily when choosing jobs.

Randal: Oh yeah, like when?

Roofer: Three weeks ago, I was offered a job up in the hills. Beautiful house, tons of property. A simple reshingling job! They told me if I could finish it in one day, I would double my price. Then I realized whose house it was.

Randal: Whose house was it?

Roofer: Dominic Bambino's.

Randal: Baby-Face" Bambino the gangster?

Roofer: The same! The money was right, but the risk was too high. I knew who he was, and based on that, I turned the job over to a friend of mine.

Dante: [to Randal] Based on his personal politics.

Roofer: Right! And the next week the Floressi family puts out a hit on Baby-Face's house! My friend was shot and killed. Didn't even finish reshingling!

Randal: No way.

Roofer: [pointing to his heart] I'm alive because I knew the risk involved with that particular client. My friend wasn't so lucky. Any contractor working on that Death Star knew the risk involved. If they got killed, it's their own fault. A roofer listens to this , not his wallet.

Chewlies Gum Rep: You're spending what? 20, maybe 30 dollars a week on your cigarettes?

Angry Smoking Crowd: Yeah.

Woolen Cap Smoker: 40.

Smoker #1: Something like that.

Smoker #2: 53.

Chewlies Gum Rep: 53 dollars a week on cigarettes?! Come on! Would you give somebody that much money each week to kill you? Cause that's what you're doing now by paying for this so-called privilege to smoke.

Angry Smoking Crowd: Hey man, we gotta croak sometime.

Chewlies Gum Rep: It's that kinda mentality that allows the cancer-producing industry to thrive. Course we're all gonna die some day. But do we have to pay for it? Do we have to actually throw hard-earned dollars down on the counter and say, "Please, Mr. Merchant of Death, please, sell me something that'll stink up my breath and my clothes and fry my lungs.

Dante: Now wait a second!

Chewlies Gum Rep: Yeah. Yeah, now here comes the speech about how he's just doing his job by following orders. Friends, let me tell you about another group of hatemongers that were just following orders.

Angry Smoking Crowd: Who's that?

Chewlies Gum Rep: They were called Nazis!

Woolen Cap Smoker: Nazis, that's right.

Angry Smoking Crowd: Fuckin Nazi!

Chewlies Gum Rep: Yeah, and they practically wiped an entire nation of people off the Earth, just like your cigarettes are doing now.

Veronica: [after talking to William] That was Snowball.

Dante: Why do you call him that?

Veronica: Sylvan made it up. It's a blowjob thing.

Dante: What do you mean?

Veronica: After he gets a blowjob, he likes to have it spit back into his mouth while kissing. It's called snowballing.

Dante: He requests this?

Veronica: He gets off on it.

Dante: Sylvan can be talked into anything.

Veronica: Why do you say that?

Dante: Like you said, she snowballed him.

Veronica: Sylvan? No, I snowballed him.

Dante: Yeah, right.

Veronica: I'm serious.

Dante: You sucked that guy's dick?!

Veronica: Yeah, how do you think I knew that he...

Dante: Wait, but you said you only had sex with three different guys! You never mentioned him.

Veronica: Because I never had sex with him.

Dante: You sucked his dick!

Veronica: We went out a few times. We never had sex, but we fooled around.

Dante: Oh my God! Why did you tell me you only had sex with three different guys?!

Veronica: Because I did only have sex with three different guys! That doesn't mean I didn't just go with people.

Dante: Oh my God, I feel so nauseous.

Veronica: Sorry, Dante. I thought you understood.

Dante: I did understand! I understood that you had sex with three different guys and that's all you said!

Veronica: Please calm down.

Dante: How many?

Veronica: Dante!

Dante: How many dicks have you sucked?

Veronica: Let it go!

Dante: How many?

Veronica: All right! Shut up a second and I'll tell you! Jesus! I didn't freak out like this when you told me how many girls you fucked!

Dante: [A customer comes up to the counter and Dante helps her while Veronica does some math] This is different! This is important! How many? Well?

Veronica: Um... something like 36.

Dante: WHAT? SOMETHING LIKE 36!?

Veronica: Lower your voice.

Dante: Wait, what is that anyway, something like 36? Does that include me?

Veronica: Um... 37.

Dante: I'M 37!?

Veronica: I'm going to class.

Dante: [the customer walks up to pay] Oh my God. 37! My girlfriend sucked 37 dicks!

Customer: In a row?

Veronica: You men make me feel sick. You'll sleep with anything that says yes.

Dante: Animal, mineral or vegetable.

Veronica: Vegetable, meaning paraplegic.

Dante: They put up the least amount of struggle.