“You're still here. No beer. I'm not corrupting a minor.""But you're a minor," she pointed out. "At least for beer.""Yeah, and by the way, how much does it suck that I'm an adult if I kill somebody, and I'm not if I want a beer?”

“Yeah, and by the way? How much does it suck that I'm an adult if I kill somebody, and not if I want a beer?”

“I may look like a beer salesman, but I'm a poet.”

“Today, I'm the real me." She lifts her chin toward the large white beer tent. "How about a couple of beers?""Do you have an ID?"She laughs and pulls me toward the tent. "Honey, I've got a pocket full of them.”

“I'm not sure I'm ready for another big research project just yet," I said. Oh Yeah?" he said, handing me one of the beers. "What else you going to do? You can't fix nothing , you never worked a day in your life. The only thing you know how to do is hang out with niggers like us." I nearly choked on my beer when he summarized my capacities so succinctly - and, for the most part accurately.”

“I want a beer. I want a giant, ice-cold bottle of beer and shower sex.”