— ... I may have overreacted a little when I kicked the trash can over on him.
— It's very noble of you to confess.
— Thank you. So he doesn't have detention?
— No. You have it with him.

You know, most people have a forehead. You've got a five-head. Five! I mean, that's what all the big agencies are looking for. It's like a billboard on your face!

— I just want a girlfriend. And every girl here remembers that tornado drill in fourth grade when I wet my pants.
— Can I press pause on this Lifetime TV movie?

— I'm not stupid. You went to a club, which means you have a fake ID.
— No, no, no. Stop, stop, stop. Get out of there!
— I'm not sure what amazes me more. The fact that you lied to Dad or that this ID is so good.

— Don't let her fool you. She's 15. She's dangerous.
— Oh, I was the same way. Now the only thing dangerous in my life is the chance that one of these packages has anthrax in it.

— Oh! Yearbook photo girl. Want a pick?
— Thanks, but I have plenty of shots of girls who desperately need attention from boys to prop up their self-esteem.

— I like a woman who has no idea what she's doing.
— I just need a crowbar, and when I find one, you may want to run.
— And I'll run slow, so you could catch me.

Don't worry, I won't bust you. I just had to get out of the lunchroom. Apparently it's no longer socially acceptable to chew with your mouth closed. What's your name? When you're a big-time artist, I wanna be able to say I knew you back in high school. Provided you're not in jail for vandalism.

— Why don't you try a car wash? I remember the summer before sophomore year...
— Something really boring happend. Awesome story, Dad.
— A car wash? I love it! Thanks, Daddy.
— Great idea, Dad. Half-naked cheerleaders, wet and soapy, standing on the street asking for money.
— No car wash.
— Daddy!

— Did you understand what I said?
— See, that's the problem. Great with the repeating, not so great with the understanding. But I'm guessing it was about flowers. Props for bringing props, by the way!

— You girls are late. Where were you?
— We were having sex with the soccer team. It took longer then expected.

— I need you to show something.
— Careful. That's borderline sexual harassment.
— Oh, borderline? Clearly I'm not working hard enough. {He takes off his sweater} Same shirts.
— Wow! Two things that match. Pretty soon you'll be reading.

— What you did was dangerous. Very, very, very dangerous.
— I was going two miles an hour, not exactly the Fast and the Furious.

— So what happens tomorrow if you don't get a flower?
— I'll just go home sick... and never come back.

Mr. Verona, what a surprise! Come in...without the sharp object.

Your booty needs to pop like that whitehead on your chin.