Just over a handful of fiendish bouchees from The Departed:
Frank Costello: When you decide to be something, you can be it. That's what they don't tell you in the church. When I was your age they would say we can become cops, or criminals. Today, what I'm saying to you is this: when you're facing a loaded gun, what's the difference?
Kneecapped Bankrobber: [after being shot in the knee] I thought you were supposed to go into shock! I'm not in shock! It fuckin hurts!
Fitzy: I don't believe it.
Mr. French: What can't you believe?
Fitzy: I spent all fucking night dragging the poor bastard in there. Tell me how they find him so fast? Somebody walking a fucking dog ? What fucking size a dog is that? Has to be a big fucking dog, man. I spent all night doing it man.
[pause, Frank stares at him]
Fitzy: I'm embarrassed. I still don't believe he was a cop, I don't believe it.
Frank Costello: The COPS... are saying he's a cop... so I won't look for the cop. Are you soft, Fitz? When I tell you... to dump a body in the marsh, you dump him *IN* the marsh. Not where some guy from John Hancock goes every Thursday, TO GET A FUCKING BLOWJOB!
[Fitzy laughs, Frank hits him]
Frank Costello: Don't laugh! This ain't Reality TV!
Billy Costigan: [Referring to Costello] Do you want him to chop me up and feed me to the poor, huh, is that what you want?
Oliver Queenan: All cell phone signals are under surveillance, due to the courtesy of our Federal friends over there.
Ellerby: Patriot Act, Patriot Act! I love it, I love it, I love it!
Providence Gangster #1: Come on Babu, I can't do any more. I can't go off, please don't make me go back empty handed. Please don't do this. I wanna help you.
Pakistani Proprietor: Come to my store next Friday. I'll give you the money...
Providence Gangster #1: This is Friday Babu, how many times I gotta tell you?
Pakistani Proprietor: You keep calling me Babu, it's 'Singh' motherfucker!
Providence Gangster #1: I'm trying to help you. Don't you understand?
Pakistani Proprietor: You keep on telling me 'I'm your friend'.
Providence Gangster #1: Yeah.
Pakistani Proprietor: You don't even know my fucking name!
Dignam: I'm the guy who does his job. You must be the other guy.
The soundtrack to this weekend: John Mayer's Continuum, The Beatles' Love (remastered), Steve Vai's The Ultra Zone and Passion & Warfare. Holding original shiny prismatic cds in my hand made me feel a little less guilty about hacking mp3s off of the net. Baby steps.
Moment of Ick, Euww, Vomit Vomit: When a creepy middle-aged man gave me a lecherous once-over while walking with his wife, his eyes scanning my décolletage as if I were a Vegas showgirl and he was looking for the space to slip me a 50. I felt dirty for a full 30 minutes thereafter.
The desperate screech of rubber on tarmac, the smoke from a useless effort and the bang-boof as car kissed car with all the passion of S&M; hailed the first bumper bash witnessed this year. That and King O' The Road minibus taxi's stopping at whim on Jan Smuts Avenue. Yes, 2007 has made itself comfy.