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Carla: Boys like toys too, you know.
Paul: This is for boys?
Carla: Um-hmmmmmm.
Paul: What is it?
Carla: A butt plug.
[Paul abruptly drops it]
Carla: It's okay honey, I bleach it.
Paul: This is for boys?
Carla: Um-hmmmmmm.
Paul: What is it?
Carla: A butt plug.
[Paul abruptly drops it]
Carla: It's okay honey, I bleach it.
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Frances: Seriously, Mr. Marcus, the Supreme Court has declared that anal sex is to gay male sex what Mozart is to classical music.
Mr. Marcus: Miss Turner, we are not here to discuss classical music. I myself am a huge Mozart fan, but…
Frances: Look, the ****ing Supreme Court has declared this natural. It is not obscene.
Mr. Marcus: In case you haven't noticed this is not the Supreme Court. We're here in Customs and I have a job to do.
Frances: We're just following orders, are we? Asshole.
Mr. Marcus: From your perspective, that must be a compliment of Mozartian proportions.
Mr. Marcus: Miss Turner, we are not here to discuss classical music. I myself am a huge Mozart fan, but…
Frances: Look, the ****ing Supreme Court has declared this natural. It is not obscene.
Mr. Marcus: In case you haven't noticed this is not the Supreme Court. We're here in Customs and I have a job to do.
Frances: We're just following orders, are we? Asshole.
Mr. Marcus: From your perspective, that must be a compliment of Mozartian proportions.
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Judy: I'm Jeremy.
Lila: You're a man?
Judy: No, no, no, no, no, not really. Not ever. I was born into a man's body but I've always been a woman and well, after the final surgery...
Lila: I think I need a little drink.
Lila: You're a man?
Judy: No, no, no, no, no, not really. Not ever. I was born into a man's body but I've always been a woman and well, after the final surgery...
Lila: I think I need a little drink.
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Lila: [asking about Maggie] What is going on with her these days?
Judy: You'd have to ask her that, Lila.
Lila: So, there is something going on?
Judy: Oh, well, she's nineteen. There's always something going on when you're nineteen.
Judy: You'd have to ask her that, Lila.
Lila: So, there is something going on?
Judy: Oh, well, she's nineteen. There's always something going on when you're nineteen.
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Mr. Marcus: The books have been classified as obscene and will not be allowed through the border. Now, if I can just get you to sign here.
Frances: Little Red Riding Hood is obscene?
Mr. Marcus: Well, we, we thought it was something else.
Frances: Little Red Riding Hood is obscene?
Mr. Marcus: Well, we, we thought it was something else.
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Paul: Are you sure you like boys?
Carla: Soft centers, hard centers. I like all the chocolates in the box.
Carla: Soft centers, hard centers. I like all the chocolates in the box.
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Tony: [to Maggie] Can you believe she's never been in my coffee shop? Tell her how great it is.
Kim: Come on, I just got here. I haven't been anywhere.
Tony: Come on! Tell her how great it is, ****!
Maggie: It's great. ****.
Kim: Come on, I just got here. I haven't been anywhere.
Tony: Come on! Tell her how great it is, ****!
Maggie: It's great. ****.
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[Frances is about to attack the homophobic customs official. Security guard Bernice steps in.]
Bernice: Do we have a problem in here?
Frances: Bernice? Oh my god, I haven't seen you since the Women's Music Festival!
[Bernice hustles Frances and Maggie out the door.]
Bernice: Do we have a problem in here?
Frances: Bernice? Oh my god, I haven't seen you since the Women's Music Festival!
[Bernice hustles Frances and Maggie out the door.]
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[Maggie and Tony are washing the sidewalk in front of 10% Books.]
Religious Zealot: Jesus loves you!
Maggie: Thank you! Can you still read "Die, ****, die!" or do you think I've finally gotten it all off?
[Religious Zealot rushes off.]
Religious Zealot: Jesus loves you!
Maggie: Thank you! Can you still read "Die, ****, die!" or do you think I've finally gotten it all off?
[Religious Zealot rushes off.]
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Customs held up another order of books at the border. They're claiming the books are pornographic… hello? Which they aren't. Well, maybe Butches in Chains is, but so what?
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I read a study and after the age of forty a woman's chances of having sex are diminished by eighty percent. So, after fifty, God help you. And since I probably won't be having sex again, chocolate is the only pleasure left for me.
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Of course it's obscene! That's the point!
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Ouch, it's the plight of the bisexual. Gay girls won't play with you.