words in movies
Joey: (Laughs) Of course we do! Mike is playing a game that we used to play in high school. Yeah, where we pretend we don't know each other. We played all kinds of games. (To Mike) Hey, remember the one where I punch you in the face for not being cool?!
Ross: Yeah, kids say all kinds of crap. (In the other room Emma starts to cry.)
Monica: Ok, three kinds of potatoes coming up.
Chandler: Okay. And its not just chicks y'know? Its all kinds of other animals!
Phoebe: I know! So this woman probably could like have all kinds of stories about my parents, and she might even know like where my Dad is. So I looked her up, and she lives out by the beach. So maybe this weekend we could go to the beach?
JOEY: Oh come on. Nobody likes two different kinds of eggs equally. You like one better than the other and I wanna know which.
Rachel: Oh mom, I swear Im not an idiot. Ive read all kinds of books on pregnancy and giving birth, but I-I just didnt think to read the part about what to do when the baby comes. And-and then guess what? The babys coming and I dont know what to do. Oh, can I throw up in my diaper genie?
Jill: Totally, I love them! And, maybe you could finish telling me about all the different kinds of sand.
(Phoebe returns a with a tray full of different kinds of drinks.)
Joey: Oh, they're so cute! Now, what, what kinds are they?
Phoebe: Yeah. I actually am, yeah. Y'know life-lifes gonna had you all kinds of stuff, y'know you learn your little lessons and hopefully you grow. Wanna hear a new song?
Mr. Treeger: (coming in from the bathroom) Whoa, hey, that ladys all kinds of naked.
"Went to the store, sat on Santa's lap. Asked him to bring my friends all kinds of crap. Said all you need is to write them a song. Now, you haven't heard it yet, so don't try to sing along. No, don't sing along.
Joey: No-no! I used to get paid for all kinds of medical stuff, remember? Lets see uh, well I dont want to donate sperm again. (To Ross) I really prefer doing that at the home office yknow? (Ross nods his head.) Ooh-ooh, maybe they want like some of my blood or-or spit or something, huh?
(Rachel, Ross and Phoebe have their hands full and are stuffing all kinds of things down Joeys pants.)
Mike: Well... I'll... just show you what I'm gonna do about it... (he hits David's finger with his finger and they start to finger-fight using their fingers as swords saying all kinds of macho crap)
Monica: Why? Because everything is my responsibility? Isn't it enough that I'm making Thanksgiving dinner for everyone? You know, everyone wants a different kind of potatoes, so I'm making different kinds of potatoes. Does anybody care what kind of potatoes I want? Nooooo, no, no! (starting to cry) Just as long as Phoebe gets her peas and onions, and Mario gets his tots, and it's my first Thanksgiving, and it's all burned, and, and I... I...