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A committment-phobic man goes in search of a bride including his fed up girlfriend, to inherit his grandfather's $100 million inheritance.
[while listening to love song from Titanic] Natalie: What kind of dumb bitch lets Leonardo DiCaprio drown? Anne: Nat, mind your own business
Marco: [to Jimmie] Your birthday is soon, right? Like next week? Jimmie: No, it's not next week. Marco: Thank God. Jimmie: It's tomorrow.
[after Jimmie is rejected by his ex-girlfriend Stacey] Jimmie: She's engaged. Marco: Engaged, or married? Because if she's only engaged...
Roy O'Dell: Time for desperate measures. What about my daughter? Jimmie: Absolutely not! Roy O'Dell: Why not? She's not good enough for you? Jimmie: She's fifteen! Roy O'Dell: Well, it's pretty late in the game for you to be Mr. Choosy.
[after Carolyn explains to Jimmie the symbolism between flowers and vaginas] Jimmie: I'm not interested in your goddamn vagina, all right? I just want to marry you!
Jimmie: Just give me the damn symbolic vaginas. Marco: You are sick!
Grandad Shannon: [into megaphone] THE HUMAN CONDITION!
Daphne: [snarling at prisoner] I don't play "good cop, bad cop" - requires too much patience. I go straight to "bad cop, worse cop." Now behave!
Marco: [imitating Muhammad Ali while playing with a remote-controlled toy robot] C'mon, gorilla, we in Manila! C'mon, gorilla, this is the Thrilla!
Grandad Shannon: As my last surviving descendant, you have a sacred duty to pass on my genetic material. Jimmie: That's a lovely sentiment.
Priest: It's a wonderful thing, as time goes by, to be with someone who looks into your face, when you've gotten old, and still sees what you think you look like.
Ilana: [Upon seeing Jimmie after her performance] Up until now I thought you were dead! [Gives him a dirty look and leaves]
[Before Jimmie asks his ex-girlfriend Buckley to marry him] Marco: OK, crunch time. Seventh game of the World Series. Bottom of the ninth. Two outs. Full count. It's our last chance. There's no tomorrow. Got it? Jimmie: Four cliches ago.
Preppy Bride: Thank God I'm bisexual
Jimmie: [playing pool with Marco] Stripes wins, I propose. Marco: And solids? Jimmie: I don't know. Fake choking on a piece of steak.
[Jimmie hears that his "shit or get off the pot" marriage proposal has become an urban legend] Customer: My psychoanalyst couldn't stop talking about it. It's a bunch of crap if you ask me.