Sex Lives of the Potato Men

Dave:
If I wasn't so lazy, I'd become a workaholic.

Dave:
[Sees Ferris trying to do crazy paving] What happened here?

Ferris:
It's crazy paving.

Dave:
This isn't crazy paving Ferris, this is just sh*t.

Ferris:
I was trying to... you know?

Dave:
You've got no artistic vision here, have you? It's just a random f***ing big mess.

Ferris:
It's crazy paving, you just bung slabs down.

Dave:
No, I think you're focusing too much on the crazy aspect, and not enough on the paving side of it.

Ferris:
Have you come round here just to have a go at my crazy paving?

Dave:
No, but...

Ferris:
What then?

Dave:
Nothing.

Ferris:
[stands up and moves aside] You're standing on my string.

Dave:
What kind of concrete are you using? Cause you know there's different kinds, don't ya?

Ferris:
I'm not being funny Dave, but you're getting on my nerves.

Dave:
I'm just saying there's different types of concrete. Use the wrong one and... you're f***ed!

Ferris:
It's just ordinary concrete!

Dave:
Tolly is driving me round the twist. He never stops wanking. I just had to get out of there.

Ferris:
Try living here with Joan. Twenty-four hours a day it's either blowj*bs or crazy paving.

Dave:
Look at us. Half-eleven on a Saturday morning. We shouldn't be standing here like this. We're young blokes! We should be living life to the full. We should be down the pub!

Jeremy:
[Reading the letter he has just written Ruth in his head] Like a leaf falling from a tree, I fell for you. Gradual. Then suddenly. My insides melt. Your eyes, eyebrows, nose, mouth. Everything leading to now. In the lake, my shattered reflection. The million pieces of heartbrak. Be still, then, passion. She has turned away, like the winter. My hibernating love. As it warms, the clear shafts of sunlight penetrate your moist fanny with my stiff, meaty love-rocket.

Jeremy:
[gasps] F***ing b*tch!