Steve: I do what with this now? Hey look, it says Wilson on it. I had a pet volleyball named Wilson once.
Shasta: ..and like cookie dough between my hands..he's mine.
Wes wanted Tobin to be his "center". They said to go long, all the way to the car, stay there for 5-10 minutes, then come back.
Fish from heaven! It was almost too good to be true. Unfortunately for Tobin and Steve, the bird had dibs.
Wes: Come to papa you big beautiful bastard.
Andy: Tritip..check. Slab o' beef...check. Sheep testicles on foil..coming up.
Andria didn't get the memo. This was the no smiling table.
Avery: So Randall has this lifesize plush BSD devil thing. And it even has its own...you know..
Sean loved to dive for the football. That is, until the sprinkler-head incident.
After a particularly intense game of frisbee tossing, Steve likes to relax with a good book and his right thumb.
Alex: You can't really get pubic lice on your forearm. Right?
Andy: Yeah, I hate all those fuckers too. Just keep smilin'.
Nothing is sadder than a burning clown car with no way out. Except maybe playing frisbee with yourself.
Wes: If I really wanted to be Tom Cruise, I'd be playing volleyball, not this lame frisbee crap.
Steve: I've gotta tinkle.
Tobin: That bird just took a crap on that Buick. Sweet.
