Trailer Park Boys (2001–2018)
Julian: Ricky, I'm telling you, you gotta stop growing pot.
Ricky: Come on, man, you can't tell me to do that.
Julian: I'm serious Ricky.
Ricky: You can't tell me to do that. It's like telling the NWA to stop being black.
Ricky: [to Trevor almost everytime he sees him] Smokes, let's go.
Ricky: [to Randy] Listen man, if you go down to the store and pick me up some "ja-lap-ano" chips and $2 worth of pepperoni, I'll hang out with you for a bit.
Randy: Does anyone else want anything while I'm down there?
Julian: [pronouncing Jalapeño correctly] Yeah, pick me up a bag of Jalapeño chips.
Ricky: Jalapeño? What flavor is that?
Julian: Ricky, the J is silent. You're saying it wrong.
Bubbles: The J is like an H, Ricky. "Hal-a-peeno", not "ja-lap-ano".
Ricky: [confused] What in the fuck are you guys talking about?
Bubbles: "Hal-a-peeno". That's how you pronounce it.
Ricky: I know how to pronounce it! I ordered fuckin' ja-lap-ano!
Sarah: No, J-Roc's not crazy. He just genuinely believes he's black.
Mr. Lahey: Why don't you get a life Rick? Why don't ya go to community college like Julian here. Hey, I got a good idea. You could teach, livin' in a car and growin' dope 101.
Ricky: Hehe. And you can teach how to get drunk, get fired from the police force become a... lousy trailer park supervisor that sucks, hangs around with a fuckin' idiot that doesn't wear a shirt and looks like a dick but thinks he looks good... 101.
Ricky: [about their illegal gas station] Unleaded, blue container. Supreme, red container. Diesel in the green. Okay, are we clear here, guys?
Cory: Yeah, but how can you tell which is the Supreme?
Ricky: What, are you stupid? You fuckin' taste it. Unleaded tastes a little tangy. Supreme is kinda sour, and diesel tastes pretty good.
Ricky: Fuck, I missed jail this year. Was it awesome?
Ricky: I love all creatures like gophers and deerts, and those things that fly and everything else, but fuck seagulls. I got no time for those cocksuckers.
Julian: You're prostituting yourself out for cheeseburgers again, aren't you?
Randy: A man's gotta eat, Julian.
Randy: ...I want my barbeque.
Ricky: You know what Randy, you're totally right and you know what I'm gonna do for ya?
Ricky: Jack Shit.
[taking out bullet's from Ricky's gunshot wound for the second time in one day]
Sam Losco: I knew a guy who got shot twice in one day, he was a real dick.
Ricky: Oh look, we got us a comedian... wait a sec, were you calling me a dick?
Sam Losco: What do you think?
Ricky: [pauses and looks at the camera] Was he calling me a dick?
Mr. Lahey: Birds of a shitfeather flock together, Randy.
Ricky: You know, your thoughts might be better than mine but I have thoughts going around in my head too about different thinkings and brain things that you can use... and doing different things... and I think I know what's best for my daughter. So fuck off and let me fix the brakes for my daughter and then I'll help you with the hash. You guys don't always know what's best. My fuckin' thoughts have feelings of their own too sometimes.
Bubbles: Ricky, what are you talking about?
Ricky: I don't know, Bubbles. I don't know.
Julian: There's something you forgot about. The liquor works for both sides, buddy.
Mr. Lahey: You might be sexy, Julian, but you can't teach me anything about liquor.
Ricky: I'd say we got about a ten per cent chance of gettin' out of this one boys.
Officer George Green: [from out the window] Attention, this is the police. Come out with your hands up...
Ricky: Is that George Green?
Bubbles: That's definitely George Green.
Ricky: Wicked. Okay, forget what I said, our chances just went up to about ninety five per cent.
Jacob Collins: Baaaaaaaaaaam!
Phil Collins: Peanut butter and jaaaaaaaaaaam!
Mr. Lahey: What the fuck are you doing, Phil?
Julian: Ricky, you're pointing a loaded handgun at a puppet. Behind the puppet is our friend. The bullet will go through the doll and kill Bubbles. Give me the gun.
Ricky: I gotta kill this fuckin puppet, Julian.
[Ricky drives to the police station, trying to get himself arrested]
Ricky: 'Closed for renovations'? This is fucked!
Ricky: Knock knock.
Ricky: Knock knock.
Cory: Who's there?
Ricky: Two fucking idiots who don't know when to come around and buy dope. Now, get the fuck out of here.
Ricky: [playing 'Spacemen'] Breaker breaker, come in Earth, this is Rocket Ship 27, aliens fucked over the carbonator on engine four, I'm gonna try to refuckulate it on Juniper. Uhh, and hopefully they've got some, space weed there, over. How... how was that buddy? I don't fuckin' know.
Bubbles: Ricky... that's not very good. Use space words, real ones, not talking about space weed.
Ricky: NAYSA, power rockets are firin' all over the place... they got lasers that are shootin' and uh... Bubbles I can't fuckin' do this.
Ricky: God damnit Trinity, you can't smoke with the patch on.
Trinity: Well you're smoking with the patch on.
Ricky: Yeah, well Daddy's much bigger then you are so he can.
Bubbles: [when asked if his rocket can fly] Can it fly? Does the Tin Man have a sheet-metal cock?
Ricky: [Hallucinating while peeing against the side of a building] Telling me to fuck myself? No you fuck off you little fuck!
Julian: Rick, who the hell are you talking to?
Ricky: Fucking squirrel on my shoulder just told me to fuck off!
Bubbles: Ricky, you're hallucinating!
Julian: Listen, get a hold of yourself Ricky... Ricky you just pissed on me!
Ricky: Well you pulled me away!
Julian: Listen, pretend you're on mushrooms, alright? Just go with it.
Danny: [in the background] What in the fuck?
Ricky: I try to be a role model for kids around the park. If some kid wants to grow dope, they can come talk to me, instead of growing dope 6 or 7 times through denial and error, they're going to get it right the first time and have some good dope.
Ricky: Boys, what the fuck is up with me getting shot with three darts, and it didn't even affect me? I must be like a superhero or something.
Julian: Maybe you've got so much dope in your system, you're immune, Rick.
Bubbles: Well, if that's the case, then Julian, he is like a superhero. Holy fuck, Ricky, you know who you are? You're Dope-Man! He can smoke a pound in a single bound.
Randy: I can't get stoned, Ricky.
Ricky: What do you mean? It's shitty work. Everybody does that, all right? Carpenters, electricians, dishwashers, floor cleaners, lawyers, doctors, fuckin' politicians, CBC employees, principals, people who paint the lines on the fuckin' roads, get stoned, it'll be fun, get to work! Oh, and this is the most important, go down to the Shit-Mart. I need a bag of chicken chips. If they don't have chicken, get me dill pickle. And I want a chocolate milk.
Julian: Listen, Ricky, you're only at school for one reason, and that's to sell drugs.
Bubbles: Everybody calm down! For fucks sakes! Is this all about cheeseburgers?
Bubbles: Well Randy, I've got some burger meat at my shed, I'll cook some up for you, if that'll diffuse the situation!
Jacob Collins: Come on dad, give us a bam.
Phil Collins: Sorry son, I can't give you a bam. But I can give you a... a green eggs and HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMM!
Ricky: Knock, Knock, Trevor.
Trevor: I'm not gonna say, "Who's there?", man.
Ricky: You just did, you fucking idiot!
[tears off his pants]
[Phil Collins keeps burping all over everyone]
Bubbles: There's onion ring fragments on me, get 'em off!
Ricky: I mean how many fathers can give a nine-year-old daughter a car? I'm just happy I'm in a position where I can do something like that.
Ricky: The thing with kids and growings and getting learnings and stuff is that... You can't lie to them. Basically, if you wanna tell the children they can't do something they're gonna want to do it more. When I was young I did all kinds of crazy shit and I turned out wicked. That's because my dad was fuckin' cool, he let me do shit. I was allowed to drive his car around the park, basically took my dirt bike to school, let me grow dope in his shed in grade 7. You know, that's what good parenting is all about. You gotta let them have a bit of freedom.
Bubbles: Here's what I know, Rick. If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, you own it. If it doesn't, you don't own it. And if it doesn't you're an asshole, just like you.
[arguing with Julian about buying a wedding ring]
Ricky: I'm not getting Lucy one of those 'Cubic Zarcarbian' fuckin' things.
Bubbles: Do you want to see a rocket go, Randy?
Randy: Does it really launch, Bubbles?
Bubbles: [rhetorically] Does it really launch? Does the tin man have a sheet metal cock?
Julian: [talking to camera] In sixth grade Bubbles made this puppet he called Conky.
Ricky: What a little asshole.
Julian: Bubbles took it everywhere with him. It was kinda like his confidant.
Ricky: His what?
Julian: Never mind. Anyway, we had to take the doll away because he, you know, fucked Bubbles' mind up.
Ricky: Yeah, it was like, even though Bubbles was Bubbles, he was two people at the same time as bein' Bubbles. He was tryin' to be this other person that wasn't Bubbles, but he was still Bubbles. It was, it was fucked.
Conky: Oh, those were excellent negotiation tactics you used, Patrick Swayze.
Julian: That's not funny, Bubbles.
Conky: [singing] Ohhh my Julian, my handsome Julian Patrick Swayze you were so fuckin' sexy in Road House and fuckin' Dirty Dancing.
[Julian raises his gun and shoots Conky in the face]
Mr. Lahey: Randy just doesn't understand. I mean I love him dearly, but I hate Ricky more. I just don't want to have to put up with that prick for the rest of my life. You know, he grew up as a little shit-spark from the old shit-flint. And then he turned into a shit-bonfire and then driven by the winds of his monumental ignorance, he turned into a raging shit-firestorm. If I get to be married to Barb i'll have total control of Sunnyvale, and then I can unleash a shitnami tidal wave that'll engulf Ricky and extinguish his shit-flames forever. And with any luck, he'll drown in the undershit of that wave. Shit-waves.
[Outside a club]
Julian: There's no male dancers in there, right?
Trevor: No, that's every second Tuesday and Thursday.
Cory: J-Roc raps about gangsters & guns, pimps & hos and Compton. The guy's not from Compton. He's a white kid from a trailer park. He should rap about what he really knows which is living in his mom's trailer eating peanut butter sandwiches.
Ricky: Getting caught masturbating sucks. I got caught masturbating in jail 7 or 8 times, it really sucks.
Ricky: What, do you own space? No, NASA does.
[pronounces it "Nay-Saw"]
Satellite Employee: Naysaw?
Ricky: Rocket people? Perhaps you've heard of them?
Satellite Employee: It's NASA!
[while delivering his speech drunk, to become trailer park supervisor]
Mr. Lahey: Who is this park, or even in the whole world, doesn't have problems? Who doesn't have a drink too many times once in a while and maybe even winds up passed out in their own driveway, pissing themselves? Who doesn't drink too much sometimes or who doesn't have a puff from time to time? And who doesn't have problems with the people they love? This is our home. This is our community. I am Jim Lahey, and *I am your trailer park supervisor!*
Ricky: [With Julian, searching for Bubbles' puppet Conky] Julian, I don't fuckin' know where it is. It was grade 6. I was drunk.
Mr. Lahey: I might shoot you, and then I might shoot myself. Tell you what, you guess Ricky. Guess who i'm gonna shoot first. Will it be you Rick?
Mr. Lahey: Or will it be me?
Mr. Lahey: You?
Mr. Lahey: Me?
Ricky: Yeah! Shoot yourself, don't shoot me.
Ricky: I mean, nobody wants to admit they ate nine cans of ravioli, but I did. I'm ashamed of myself. The first can doesn't count, then you get to the second and third, fourth and fifth I think I burnt with the blowtorch, and then I just kept eatin'.
[after Ricky spots Julian with Tanya at the Chinese food restaurant]
Ricky: Why aren't you watching the dope plants, you asshole?
Julian: Calm down Ricky, I'm just grabbing some take-out.
Ricky: Take-out my ass, looks to me like you're on a date with cinnamon-roll-fuckin-head.
J-Roc: In this park it's one muthafucka for one and all muthafucka for all muthafucka's
Mr. Lahey: He's takin' the shit tornado right back to Oz.
Randy: Well that would make Sam, Dorothy. Right Mr. Lahey?
Mr. Lahey: Right, Randy.
Sara: Ricky, can you tell me why there's a mountain lion trying to bang one of my boyfriends?
Bubbles: I'd like to see that Red Blue Green cocksucker put one of those together, duct-tapin' it.
Julian: [Ricky is shoving a gun in Conky's face after he called him "Reveen"] Rick, you are pointing a loaded handgun at a puppet.
Ricky: Yes, I am.
Julian: Behind the puppet is our friend. The bullet will go through the doll and kill Bubbles. Give me the gun.
Ricky: [pauses, seethes] I gotta kill this puppet, Julian.
Ricky: What in the fuck are you dressed up as a bumblebee for? And why do you look like Indianapolis Jones?
Mr. Lahey: It's none of your goddamn business, Ricky. If you must know, Randy and I were rehearsing for a play for the Blandford Recreation Centre next Thursday.
Randy: No! Mr. Lahey, we weren't rehearsing for a play.
Mr. Lahey: We were practicing, Randy.
Randy: It's not Halloween, we're not doing community theatre.
Mr. Lahey: Randy...
Randy: Were consenting adults. And what we do in the privacy of our own home is... is fine, Mr. Lahey.
Mr. Lahey: Randy, please.
Randy: And I don't care. I don't care if the whole world knows that we like to dress up, that we like to have some fun... and that, we're a couple. Hey everybody! We're gay!
Ricky: [shocked] What?
Randy: Say it Mr. Lahey. It feels great.
Mr. Lahey: [long pause] Alright Randy. We'll do it your way. Everybody... I'm gay.
[the camera turns to a shocked Bubbles, who akwardly turns away]
[His speech to become trailer park supervisor, after the boys slip some magic mushrooms into his hot dog]
Sam Losco: Now, my number one priority is to clean up the criminal activity in this park, and those responsible for it. And you know who I'm talking about.
Ricky: Why don't you go fuck yourself, you fucking dick? You're not even from this park.
Sam Losco: I'm just getting started, boy. You just wait.
Ricky: Yeah we'll see about that, you dick.
Sam Losco: Now I plan on working hand in hand with the poli- with the people of this park, and the police... departure, we're...
Sam Losco: [He suddenly stops and stares into space] This is fucked up... uhh... I'll look at Ricky's ass, after you... no. You get that lawnmower...
Ricky: You're on fucking drugs!
Bubbles: Sam's on drugs everybody!
J-Roc: [making a turntable motion in the air] Nobody can understand what you're brrrrrrzzzzzss-sayin'!
Ricky: Knock-knock, Lahey.
Mr. Lahey: Who's there, Ricky?
Ricky: A fuckin' shitty fuckin' trailer park supervisor who hangs around with a big-gutted drunk elf who thinks he's gettin' us thrown back in jail but he can't 'cause he's got no evidence and he's dumb as fuck, and he's got this other thing goin' on in his head that's tryin' to... twirly around and... fuckin' get... different... FUCK!
Ricky: You guys are bleeding, you're not getting in my fuckin car.
Bubbles: Oh, for fuck-sakes.
[grabs bag of chips out of Ricky's hand, rips it open and and covers Trevor's wounds with it]
Trevor: Ow, Bubbles, those are salt and vinegar!
Bubbles (singing to Randy while drunk): Fuckin' Randy's gut, is full of dirty old cheeseburgers!
Bubbles: Please J-ROC. I'll give you two grams of blonde Lebanese hash.
J-Roc: That's not even blonde mothafucka.
Bubbles: Well it's dirty blonde.
[Lahey and Randy show up to shut down the concert]
Bubbles: Hey guys, Captain Arsehole and Wonderboy are coming.
J-Roc: Yo, DVS, I am so down with your shit, tell me what's goin on my brother?
Detroit Velvet Smooth: Brother... you callin' me your brother? Seems to me like one of us ain't black.
Ricky: What the fuck? Julian, it must be the fumes, i'm hallucinating, man! Looks like Bubbles has got wings on his back and he's strangling Mike Bullard!
[Ricky goes over the department store's public address system]
Ricky: Mr. Lahey and Randy to the Fuck-off department. Mr. Lahey and Randy to the Fuck-off department and hurry the fuck up!
Julian: Where did you guys hand those flyers out at?
Cory: Shit dude, we sent them to this new bar, The Empty Closet.
Julian: The Empty Closet... Huh, why am I not surprised?
J-Roc: Can't we talk? You're acting awful hard Randy.
Randy: Well sometimes life is hard, J-Roc.
J-Roc: Randy, sometimes, you're fat. You don't hear me talk about that, do you?
[Pointing to baby-mamas]
J-Roc: Look down dawg, nawmsayin'? Ya understand? Seems to me, like you should be able to understand and be sympathetic to what it's like to be pregnant, dawg.
Randy: What are you talking about, J-Roc?
J-Roc: Oh what, you a'int pregnant with a bucket of chicken?
[Addressing unborn child]
J-Roc: Hey, lemme tell you somethin' little mafucker. When you grow up, don't grow up to be like that mafucker right there!
[Pointing to Randy]
J-Roc: Randy, you a'int even had your ultrasound yet, have you dawg? I could do you right now.
[Uses bling like a stethoscope]
J-Roc: I hear chicken. I hear cola fizz, and mustard and relish coagulating together with french fries and onion rings, but you know what? I don't hear a heart, motherfucker. C'mon ladies, let's pack this shit up. That's whack, Randy. Go on with your wallet. AFTER ALL I'VE DONE FOR YOU, HAIRY BITCH!
Phil Collins: [to Sam Losco] Hey, you owe me you fuckin' greasy caveman!
Ricky: Hey Lahey, knock knock.
Mr. Lahey: Who's there, Rick?
Ricky: Mr. Stupidy-head, thats, fuckin' pissin' me off right now and thinks he's the captain of the Shit-liner, and by the way your fish stick sucks so fuck off!
Phil Collins: Listen boy, when you're under my roof, it's my rules, and burgers is all about them rules. Burgers were good to me and they're good to you!
Ricky: [about Corey and Trevor] They're the two biggest fuck-giraffes in the dumb-dumb salad.
Julian: Yeah, pick me up a bag of jalapeÒo chips
Ricky: Jalapeno? What flavor is that?
Julian: Ricky, the "J" is Silent
Bubbles: Hal-Uh-Peno, not galapeno.
Ricky: I know how to pronouce it, I ordered fucking galapeno.
Ricky: Hey Sam, knock knock!
Sam Losco: [is stoned from the shrooms he ate in the hot dog before the speech] Who's there?
Ricky: Get the fuck off the stage!
Ricky: Treena, I'm stupid. I'm not as smart as everyone else.
Treena Lahey: No, Ricky, you're not stupid, remember you're going to get your grade 10 and you'll be just as smart as everyone else.
Ricky: I dunno, Treena.
Treena Lahey: OK, What's the capital of Nova Scotia?
Ricky: That's easy, Halifax.
Treena Lahey: OK, then what's the capital of British Columbia?
Treena Lahey: See, Ricky, you're just as smart as everyone else.
Ricky: [sees Randy showering outside] Randy, I can see you through all those goddamn liquor bags and lawn-chair strapping, fucksakes!
Randy: Well, stop friggin' looking, Rick!
[Cory and Trevor are visibly aroused at a strip club]
Danny: [In the background] FUCK OFF WITH THE FUCKING ERECTIONS!
Bubbles: [Later] Fuckin' way she goes and erections ruined the whole fucking night.
Ricky: [talking about the gay bar] Well, I wasn't one who really fucking noticed anything out of the ordinary but they were requesting songs like Madonna and that which is fucking awesome, but it was Julian who noticed something really fucking weird.
Bubbles: Well, that's a little harsh. He's not a punk. He might be a bit of a fuckin' goof, but he's not a punk.
Conky: [to Julian after he pulls the gun out of Ricky's hand] Oh, those were excellent negotiation tactics you used... Patrick... Swayze.
Danny: [shouts] For fuck sakes, Ricky! What the fuck are you doing with the satellites? I paid ten fuckin' dollars! I want my fucking satellite signal! Jesus Christ!
Ricky: Danny, chill the fuck out! I'm fucking trying here, it'll be back up in a bit! Calm the fuck down.
Satellite Employee: Look, if these satellites aren't down in ten minutes, I'll have no choice but to call the cops.
Julian: Ricky, get the dishes off my roof.
Ricky: [starts throwing dishes off the roof] I'll take every fucking one of these down, is that what you want? Fuckin' retards. I don't give a fuck about this stupid bullshit.
[smashes a dish through the TV van's windshield]
Ricky: There, they're in the fuckin' van, now leave.
Danny: [in the background] Ten fuckin' dollars a month!
J-Roc's Mom: Jamie, how many 29 year old record company presidents operate out of their mom's trailers? Know what I'm sayin'?
J-Roc: Believe it or not ma, some people think I'm gonna make it in this rap game!, know what I'm sayin'
Ricky: Randy can't fight with his pants on, he doesn't want to tear his precious little pants. So when the pants come off, look the fuck out!