Tim: Welcome to our Tool Time salute...
Al: to the last manly sport. [cow moos]
Both: Rodeo.
Tim: I mean, what's more manly than eating your steak after you finish riding it?
Al: That's right. These cowboys are a dying breed. Rugged individuals who pay no mind to their overbearing mothers that won't let them live their own life. Maybe it's out on the range, maybe not, but let them live their own lives!
Tim: Al.
Al: Well, moseying right along...
Tim: "Moseying along"?

Brad: Check this out. I guess they got this new program where they put cameras at intersections and try to catch drivers who run red lights.
Mark: Whoa, cool angles! They can get the license plate from the back and the driver from the front.
Jill: Let me see that. Gosh! Nobody's gonna be able to pick their nose in the car anymore.
Brad: I think this is outrageous. I mean, it's a blatant invasion of privacy. It's another example of Big Brother taking control and infiltrating every aspect of our lives.
Jill: You just don't want to get a ticket.
Brad: Fricking right!

Jill: You know, this stuff just... It happens. It just... It's okay. I just... I wish you hadn't done it on our anniversary.
Tim: I wish I hadn't done it at all. You know, because this is the woman I like spending time with, you know? Do you remember the first time I told you I loved you?
Jill: When was that?
Tim: I don't remember, I was hoping you did.
Jill: Oh, Tim.
Tim: I'm kidding. Nineteen years ago. Do you remember? The front porch of your parents' house. That summer place they had. Sitting out there, summertime. Your old man comes crashing out of that screen door with a saber. Chases me off the porch. What's the matter with him, anyway? I never thought I would see you again that night.
Jill: You just did it.
Tim: Now what did I do?
Jill: You just looked at me the way I wanted you to look at me last night.