Ari: I had video sex with an Ecuadorian girl this morning.
Eric: I hope she was 18. Federal offense if not.
Ari: She had big teeth and a sarong. That's all I remember, baby.
Eric: You having a blackout over there too?
Ari: I haven't had a blackout since I took four Quaaludes and forgot I fucked Chantal Lautenberg. Why?
Eric: Cause we're in Northridge. The whole area's blacked out. Is there any way this is gonna affect the numbers?
Ari: I didn't even know that Northridge survived the '94 quake, E. Don't worry about that.
Ari: After the year that I've had and on the most important day of my life, you'd think that she would ask me what I wanted. You know? A nice blowjob, perhaps. Where I could just sit back for the first time in nine months and do nothing but admire the top of her head and pray that this fuckin movie opens so I can stop selling off assets like we're fucking Michael Jackson.
Ari: Has the collagen seeped into your brainstem, Babs?
Fiona: Come on, there's plenty of protein in mung-beans.
Ari: No, no, I'm talking about real protein. I mean like man protein, you know, from the flesh of slaughtered animals. I wanna have war paint and I want blood dripping. That's what I need.
Fiona: Have you seen a video of a slaughterhouse, Ari?
Vince: Meat is murder.
Ari: Even broccoli screams when you rip it from the ground.
Mrs. Ari: Congratulations. You just won yourself $50,000 in child therapy.
Ari: Hey, in this town, as long as I keep her off an E! True Hollywood Story, I've done my job.
Ari: Like the new office number, E. You know it spells 274-COCK?
Eric: It does not!
Ari: No, it doesn't, but I made you look.
Mrs. Ari: Tell me that it's exciting and that... if I did it, I'd be good.
Ari: It's a soap opera, baby. There is no good. There's just... degrees of bad.
Craig: I really look forward to helping you out. Uh... do you know when he'll be back?
Ari: You want the truth?
Ari: He won't. I killed him. I shot him and I buried him underneath my desk. Any more questions?
Dan: You can move me up that list?
Ari: I can move mountains, Dan.
Ari: When I'm done with you, you're going to be repping sideshow freaks. You need "Jojo the Dog-Faced Bitch Boy?" Call Josh Weinfuck, the lightweight pen-stealing fuckface.
Vince: You're bringing your wife? It's supposed to be a boys' trip.
Ari: Vinnie, when you get married, you realize that a wife is like a herpes sore; she comes and goes when and where she pleases.
Drama: Well get some Valtrex, cause the rest of us are going to be yachting and boozing it up with bronze-looking broads.
Terrance: If you change your mind, you know where I am.
Ari: Clubbing baby seals somewhere?
Ari: I'm ready to go here, all right? It's like R. Kelly at recess.
Ari: You all have one goal today: to get Vincent Chase's brother, Johnny Chase, a job. Any job. I don't care if it's a porn shoot in which he is being gang-raped by a gaggle of silverback apes. If there are cameras rolling, everybody wins.
Ari: The guy's about as positive as Mother Teresa's AIDS test.
Barbara: We need to have lunch, Ari. The word is out and it's spreading.
Ari: You mean that shit about you getting lipo? Don't worry about that. From what I hear, Dr. Dessler's like a fucking Picasso with that knife.