"You didn't have to call me a stupid bitch."
"You were driving right past us, we had to yell something."
"I got a name you know. You're lucky I didn't just drive right home."
"Okay, okay, okay. I'm sorry, Clarissa, but you've got to understand that in a time like this where every fucking second counts, a man can't waste his time choosing words."
Crispin Glover in this film is pretty much a drinking game waiting to happen. I want his "gahddaaahmnaaht" as a ringtone, I broke into giggles several times during the film. Luckily, I read this excellent article on the California Shift in American pop punk recently, and I don't know if that's what's happening in Glover's accent,…