"My God, why are all those people running?"
"It's a marathon."
"I don't care what it is. Why are they running?"
"I don't know. For fun."
"They call that fun? Sounds loony tunes."

"You want to play with the other kids?"
"No."
"Oh, come on. They're playing soccer."
"So."
"I thought you liked soccer?"
"No."
"Well, maybe get them to play a game you like."
"I want to go home."
"We just got here."
"So."

"Remember that kid who threw up at the museum?"
"Yeah."
"He sucked."
"Yeah."
"I didn't like him."
"Yeah, I'm glad he threw up."

"This grass smells like pooh. I don't want to sit here."

"Hey, get off me. Quit kickin' me!"
"Make me."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Ouch!"
"Yeah, right in your nuts!"

"I'm glad I'm not single. There's a whole hell of a lot of crazy out there."

"Ward still lookin' for work?"
"Yeah."
"How long's it been?"
"Oh, couple of years."
"How's he keepin' busy?"
"Bought another Jeep. Put forty-inch rims on the sucker. Looks great."

"Fanny, is that you? Oh my God, it is you!"
"Michael, oh my God!"
"I thought that was someone I knew, but I didn't want to stare like a crazy person."
"Are you living in Denver now?"
"No, we're going to Wichita for a family reunion. And this is Mathew. He's the new husband."
"Hi, I'm really the new, new husband."
"He's certainly an improvement."

"August."
"Excuse me?"
"I said August. That's what it's all about."
"Uh, okay."
"Remember, August."
"Sure..."

"Spendthrifts and fat fucks. That's what America has turned into."
"When are you going to get out of your angry-young-man-phase?"
"Phase? It's a lifestyle. Plus, I'm an orthodox cynic."

"When I was a kid, my brother spray-painted my hamster. Then my mouse licked the hamster and died from ingesting the paint. Why do guys do things like spray-paint hamsters?"
"Because it's cool."

"There just aren't enough transsexuals anymore."

"No way. Tell him I don't do coffee meetings."

"I don't ask for much, you know. Just don't short change me. Don't give me the fuck-you-eye. Don't send me junk mail. Return my calls. Hold the elevator door open for me. Don't park too close to my car. Speak softly. Say, 'Hi.'"

"What kind of music do you play?"
"We're kind of an improvisational rock band. We just get drunk and jam."
"Cool, what time's the show?"
"We don't really have a set time. And we're usually late."

"Do you have two quarters?"
"No, sorry."
"I...need...two...quarters...now! Give them to me!"
"No way, buddy. Get away."
"Ahhhhhhh!"
"What the? You know, I think I can outrun you and your walker."

"This is my sidewalk. Go beg elsewheres. Go on. I'll get all up in your face. Don't think I won't. This is mine, dog."

"You are such an ungrateful asshole!"
"Keep it down."
"Don't tell me to keep it down. You ungrateful fuck!"
"Hey."
"That old man just gave you extra coffee. You didn't have to yell at him. He doesn't know you want room for cream. Asshole!"

"Fuck Ben Kingsley."

"Let me tell you, it's the end times for this country. We always tell everyone we're number one, but we don't even have health care. We're lucky to be number seventeen. You go to any country in Europe, and if you get hurt, you get treatment. They don't let their people die in the streets like we do. This whole place is sick. And corrupt. Can you believe Libby got off Scott-free?"
"Oh, everyone saw that coming."
"Yeah, but nobody did anything."
"Same as usual."
"Yeah, same as usual. That's why this country is going to end. We can't keep going like this. I mean, people care more about Paris Hilton than global warming for God's sake. What does that tell you about America?"
"You don't have to tell me about America. I know this country is awful."
"You know, this is an amazing cup of coffee."
"Yeah, I come here everyday."

"You've lived in San Francisco since nineteen seventy-seven?"
"Yeah. No. I bought the house in seventy-seven. I've been here since seventy."
"You must have seen a lot of changes."
"Changes? Holy shit, the world's changed. Just the workplace has changes by light years. You know before email, we used carbon paper? You probably don't even know that that is. We didn't have copy machines, we had carbon paper. Everything you wrote or typed had three copies automatically attached. You'd peel the paper apart, and, viola, three fucking copies. Oh, and no more Soviets to blow us up. Now, it's terrorists. No matter how much the world changes, there's always going to be someone who wants to blow us up."

"Everyone's always communicating these days. Look at this guy. Text-messaging as he walks in the crosswalk... What the hell's so important that he's gotta type as he walks across a busy street? I mean, what if I just put my foot on the gas? You know what he's typing? I'll be there soon. I'll see you in five minutes. Just show the fuck up, Jesus."

"First we need to do some refactoring. Then, we need to do some plumbing on the database."
"What is this plumbing? I don't understand how you plumbing a database."
"Well, first you have to flush it..."
"Why the laughing? English is second language to me. I even know third. How many of you know third? Exactly."

"None of this shit would've happened if we went to Bistro Burger."

"Excuse me?"
"Yeah?"
"How do we get to the Haight-Asbury?"
"The Haight? Oh, you people don't want to go there. That place smells like a toilet. Go out to Ocean Beach or something."

"I need a smooth jazz escape."
"Jesus, are you still listening to that crap?"
"Work, rest, or play, it's gotta be the smooth jazz way."