A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.
We're both getting old. All that we have left now are our memories. If you go to that party on Saturday night, you won't have those anymore. Tear up that invitation.
I'm not interested in friends from those places, and I don't trust politicians! You're still acting like a street schmuck! You know, if we'd listened to you, we'd still be rolling out drunks for a living!
Have the lambs stopped screaming?
I like the stink of the streets. It makes me feel good. And I like the smell of it, it opens up my lungs. And it gives me a hard-on.
- He hissed at you. What did he say?
- He said, "I can smell your cunt."
- I see. I myself cannot.