Spring break: where to go?

Christ, yes, that ranks right up there with Thomas Hardy and Charles Dickens. Brilliant stuff, I tell you. Abso-fucking-lutely brilliant.

 

That's about $60 a drink, I figure. What's the beef?

 

"OK, let me tell ya what Like a Virgin's about.
It's all about this cooze who's a regular fuck machine.
I'm talking, morning, day, night, afternoon,
Dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick."

"How many dicks is that?"

"A lot."

"Then one day she meets a John Holmes motherfucker, and it's like, whoa baby.
I mean, this cat is like Charles Bronson in "The Great Escape." He's diggin tunnels.
Now she's gettin this serious dick action,
She's feelin something she ain't felt since forever. Pain. Pain.
It hurts. It hurts her. It shouldn't hurt.
You know, her pussy should be Bubble-Yum by now.
But when this cat fucks her, it hurts. It hurts like it did the first time.
You see, the pain is reminding a fuck machine what is was once like to be a virgin.
Hence, "Like a Virgin."

 

I admit, it's got nothing on... (drumroll, please)

WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA!

 

Aw, the comeback of all time. It must rank right up there in the pantheon of all great retorts like 'Am not.'

 

It does have a certain ring to it, does it not?

I'm very sorry the government taxes their tips, that's fucked up. That ain't my fault. It would seem to me that waitresses are one of the many groups the government fucks in the ass on a regular basis. Look, if you ask me to sign something that says the government shouldn't do that, I'll sign it, put it to a vote, I'll vote for it, but what I won't do is play ball. And as for this non-college bullshit I got two words for that: learn to fuckin' type, 'cause if you're expecting me to help out with the rent you're in for a big fuckin' surprise.

 

First of all Rat, you never let on how much you like a girl. "Oh, Debbie. Hi." Two, you always call the shots. "Kiss me. You won't regret it." Now three, act like wherever you are, that's the place to be. "Isn't this great?" Four, when ordering food, you find out what she wants, then order for the both of you. It's a classy move. "Now, the lady will have the linguini and white clam sauce, and a Coke with no ice." And five, now this is the most important, Rat. When it comes down to making out, whenever possible, put on side one of Led Zeppelin IV.

 

The man you just killed was just released from prison. He got caught at a company warehouse full of hot items. He could've fuckin' walked. All he had to do was say my dad's name, but he didn't; he kept his fucking mouth shut. And did his fuckin' time, and he did it like a man. He did four years for us. So, Mr. Orange, you're tellin' me this very good friend of mine, who did four years for my father, who in four years never made a deal, no matter what they dangled in front of him, you're telling me that now, that now this man is free, and we're making good on our commitment to him, he's just gonna decide, out of the fucking blue, to rip us off? Why don't you tell me what really happened?

 

We don't have none of this stuff in the boy's room! Wait a minute! We don't got none of this... we don't got doors on the stalls in the boy's room, we don't have, what is this? What's this? We don't have a candy machine in the boy's room!

 

Jules, y'know, honey... this isn't real. You know what it is? It's St. Elmo's Fire. Electric flashes of light that appear in dark skies out of nowhere. Sailors would guide entire journeys by it, but the joke was on them... there was no fire. There wasn't even a St. Elmo. They made it up. They made it up because they thought they needed it to keep them going when times got tough, just like you're making up all of this. We're all going through this. It's our time at the edge.

 

No, I don't have any Blue Oyster Cult. Where were you last week? I had five sets. Now get out of here. You're bad for business.

 

Don't you ever talk about my friends. You don't know any of my friends. You don't look at any of my friends. And you certainly wouldn't condescend to speak to any of my friends. So you just stick to the things you know: shopping, nail polish, your father's BMW, and your poor, rich drunk mother in the Caribbean.