- 14:35 - Rappelez-vous, l'Écran magique...http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89cran_magique
- 15:52 - Bizob = Mot-valise (bide + zob) ; quand un homme n'a plus la ligne et que son bide tombe sur son zob. En anglais, "gock" ("gut" + "cock").
- 16:07 - Bicon = Mot-valise (bide + con) ; quand une femme n'a plus la ligne et que son bide tombe sur son con. En anglais, "gunt" ("gut" + "cunt").
- Well, well, well. If it isn't girls gone wild.- Homos on wheels. Holy shit. Is that Tommy Gavin?- That's right.- Back to work already.- Hardly recognize you without the bull's-eye on your forehead.- I'm rubber, you're glue, pal.- Nice comeback, huh? I'm bleeding.- So, how's it feel to play second fiddle to the best house in Harlem?- Second fiddle my ass. We were here first.- I don't think so, pendejo.- Puñeta, maricón.- Tu maldita madre.- Hey, hey. Knock it off! This ain't "West Side Story."
- Hey, hey, hey! Easy, easy! Shawn, stand down! Stand down!- Hey, kids, enough already! I will turn this truck around. I'll do it. All right. All right. Fine. Now we're not stopping for ice cream.- Get him. Get him. Mike, Mike, get him.- Jesus Christ.- Shit.- What, Lou?- We're not stopping for ice cream.
- Hey. We brought you a little something.- What's this?- That, my dear nephew, is a rare bottle of Irish whiskey.- A little something to wish you well on your first day back.- Wow. This is really top shelf stuff.- Top shelf? They keep that shit in the safe.- That there is a distilled work of art, my friend.- Hell, I wish I could have a taste of that myself.- Well, I hate to tell you, boys, but I ain't drinking whisky no more. Yep. Strictly a wine man now.- Oh, the wine. Changing seats on the Titanic he is.
- Oh, please let this be a false alarm for a change. It's, what, like, the eighth call in a row?- Yeah, not to mention those 3 wave-offs, right, though?- I haven't even seen the house since breakfast.- Shit, man. My legs are stiff as boards.- I mean, the fire, the two water main breaks, and the gas leak, I can understand. But three ODs, 5 sick calls, a guy with a beer bottle stuck up his ass and that chick with the busted tit implant? Not what I signed up for.- I'm not complaining about that last one, though.- Yeah, 'cause you felt her up for three minutes.- Yeah, well, asshole, it was my job to feel her up.- Oh, was it also your duty to put your hand on her ass?- Nothing wrong with being thorough.- Amen to that. Hey, Tommy, you OK?- Yeah. Golden. You know, I was in that hospital bed for about 4 weeks dreaming of a day like this. You guys are bitching and whining and moaning about being busy. Why don't you put in for a transfer to some house in Staten Island where you can sit around with your dick in your hand? You know, you want to twitter and twatter and download deaf mute porn online, why don't you run for Congress? Me, I'm happy being a firefighter again.
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