I'm still sure it rings a bell
But then again it's probably just my mind making things up

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I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you.
But I'm not laughing.
Joe: What do you think would happen if I got him a professional... you know...
Bill: A professional?
Joe: Hooker. You know, the kind that can teach things... first-timers, you know... break him in.
Bill: But Joe, he's 11.
Joe: You're right, you're right. It's too late.
It's just I'm... I'm so tired of being admired all the time. All these men I mean... they're all beautiful, artistic minds, great sex, the whole package, but hollow, you know what I mean? I feel nobody's really honest with me. Nobody wants me for me.
You think I don't appreciate art? You think I don't understand fashion? You think I'm not hip? You think I'm pathetic? A nerd? A lard-ass fat-so? You think I'm shit? Well, you're wrong, 'cause i'm champagne, and you're shit. Until the day you die, you, not me, will always be shit.
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