ERICA: Sometimes, Mark — seriously — you say two things at once and I’m not sure which one we’re talking about.

MARK: But you’ve seen guys row crew, right?

ERICA: No.

GG: I’ve got a crew, sweetie, the Murder Junkies. We don’t fucking row boats, but I’m sure we can find of something to do with the oars.

MARK: Okay, we’ll they’re bigger than me. They’re world class athletes. And a second ago you said you like guys who row crew so I assumed you’d met one.

ERICA: I guess I meant I liked the idea of it. The way a girl likes cowboys.

GG: I’ll put on a cowboy hat and spurs and ride your ass like a horse, honey.

MARK: The Phoenix is good.

ERICA: This is a new topic?

MARK: It’s the same topic.

ERICA: We’re still talking about the finals clubs?

GG: Let’s talk about fetish clubs, the kind where I could tie you yuppie fucks up and then piss all over you.

MARK: Would you rather talk about something else?

ERICA: No, it’s just that since the beginning of the conversation about finals clubs I think I may have had a birthday.

GG: Oooh, it’s your birthday? Well you’re in luck because I got you a tiny present. Why don’t you reach your hand under this here table and unwrap it.

MARK: We can change the subject. My friend Eduardo made $300,000 betting on oil futures last summer and he won’t get in. Money or the ability to make it doesn’t impress anybody around here. Everybody can do that.

ERICA: He made $300,000 in a summer?

GG: I made $300 once by putting a needle up my piss hole.

MARK: He likes meteorology.

ERICA: You said it was oil futures.

MARK: If you can predict the weather, you can predict the price of heating oil.

GG: I can predict the future: Me throat-fucking your girlfriend while I shit into your light beer.

ERICA: Listen, you’re going to be successful and rich. But you’re going to go through life thinking that girls don’t like you because you’re a tech geek. And I want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, that that won’t be true. It’ll be because you’re an asshole.

GG: And I want you to know from the bottom of my cock that even though I didn’t invent MyFace, I did write “Eat My Diarrhea.”

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