Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I don't even know what the hell's going on there.
Every single day.
Shit.
Be a pal, Lip. When you and Frank get done passing around, uh, Daddyz Girl...
Oh. Good, good. With teenage boys in the house, you can never have enough.
Miami out of O'Hare. Tomorrow afternoon.
It's almost 1. I gotta get going before Hal decides I'm having another affair.
When are you gonna finally do something for yourself?
That's the Sophie's choice you're agonizing over?
It's like...
- You guys popped your cherry. - Yeah.
Trashed the back end. Ha, ha.
...every synapse in our cerebellum screams:
The Bible says it is blessed to forgive, son.
Fair enough.
Honey. This is all over money? You should have asked me for it.
- Jasmine was there. - Who?
It's Karen. Leave a message.
He's back in school in Michigan.
Sweetie, you are too easy on them.
The next thing I know, he's beating me to death.
We'll be all right.
Where the fuck are you?
I already know, Debs.
It's broken, I think.
To Chicago jurisprudence and adolescent misadventure.
Steve may not be the guy you think.
In and out of the bathroom in her dainty little undies.
Listen, honest, I don't love you.
I'll go first.
Got him the Silver Star.
If you happen to see Frank, tell him he's a dead man.
You do?
Jeez.
- Are they out of jail? - You gave them a stolen car?
Yeah.
I love you. I wanna be with you.
Where'd you get the stolen car?