Sera: You can fuck me in the ass. You can cum on my face.
Just keep it out of my hair. I just washed it.
Ben: I came here to drink myself to death. Sera: How long
will it take you? Ben: I'd say about three to four weeks.
Sera: Is drinking a way of killing yourself? Ben: Or, is
killing myself a way of drinking?
Ben: Look at me... I'm a prickly pear.
Ben Sanderson: I don't know if my wife left me because of
my drinking or I started drinking 'cause my wife left me.
Terri: Maybe you shouldn't drink so much. Ben: Maybe I shouldn't
breathe so much either.
Sera: Don't you like me, Ben? Ben: Sera... what you don't
understand is---no, see, no. You can never, never ask me
to stop drinking. Do you understand? Sera: I do. I really
do.
Sera: I know a cool place in the desert.
Sera: Included with the rent 'round here is a complimentary
blow-job.
Sera: What's up? Ben: I was looking for you tonight. I don't
know if you've a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, but I thought
maybe we could get some dinner.
Ben: I am a drunk, and you're a hooker. I want you to know
I am a person who is totally at ease with this.
Sera: That's nice talk, Ben - keep drinking. Between the
101-proof breath and the occasional bits of drool, some
interesting words come out.
Sera: How do you feel? Ben: Like the kling klang king of
the rim ram room.
Ben: Giving you money makes me want to come. Sera: Then
come.
