Trip: Fuck, it's Elvis.
Hawk: Yeah, we're here to take out friend Jam here to the big, satanic kiss concert, if that's okay with you.
Father Phillip McNulty: Satan? Satan? Santa. They're the same letters... they're the same guy.
Hawk: Only a car full of Stellas and Guidos would ride your ass on a 2-lane highway and honk.
Trip: Man, this is better than the first time I got to finger a chick, man.
Guido: Have you learned your lesson yet, puke?
Hawk: If the lesson is you're a dick with ears and a really bad haircut, I'd say yeah. I've learned my lesson.
Lex: Mrs. Bruce is a psycho bitch from Hell.
Hawk: How's it hanging, Padre?
Father Phillip McNulty: Whoa, I just heard you talking through my nose. Is it possible my nose has ear drums?.. Nose drums.
Hawk: Will you guys quit the mom-bashing? I mean, look, look, Lex's mom is cool because she lets us spend the night, and if it wasn't for your mom, Trip, we wouldn't have smoked that fine Panama Red last night! So, leave the women who gave you life out of it, they're both cool in my book.
Christine: Okay, dope-burnout, let's get one thing straight, here. As far as I'm concerned, good tunes is good tunes. Be it disco or rock, or polka, or whatever have you, regardless of the category. Disco is just easier to dance to.
Lex: Hey, thanks for letting us use your make-up supply. You must have the entire Revlon factory in your purse, you greasy disco ball.
Chongo: This guy giving you shit, bro?
Little Kid: Yeah, he was going to mug me for my kiss ticket.
Trip: What! That's insane, I said "Hey, little kid, you know where I could take a piss?"
Hawk: Quite a night. So far you've seen me and my dick throw up.
Lex: Man I've never heard a girl blow ass before.
Mini-Mart Robber: I don't even think you have a gun.
Trip: Neither do I.