IRC-Galleria

Jules: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa... stop right there. Eatin' a bitch out, and givin' a bitch a foot massage ain't even the same fuckin' thing.

Vincent: It's not. It's the same ballpark.

Jules: Ain't no fuckin' ballpark neither. Now look, maybe your method of massage differs from mine, but, you know, touchin' his wife's feet, and stickin' your tongue in her Holiest of Holies, ain't the same fuckin' ballpark, it ain't the same league, it ain't even the same fuckin' sport. Look, foot massages don't mean shit.

Vincent: Have you ever given a foot massage?

Jules: Don't be tellin' me about foot massages. I'm the foot fuckin' master.

Vincent: Given a lot of 'em?

Jules: Shit yeah. I got my technique down and everything, I don't be ticklin' or nothin'.

Vincent: Would you give a guy a foot massage?

Jules: Fuck you.

Vincent: You give them a lot?

Jules: Fuck you.

Vincent: You know, I'm getting kinda tired. I could use a foot massage myself.

Jules: Man, you best back off, I'm gittin' a little pissed here.

En kyllä oo mikään mestari aamujen kanssa :)

and that which starts bitter ends sweet.

Hard-drug face, want to powder his nose