- Lou: Here's a question. Was it morally wrong for me to exploit my knowledge of the future for personal financial gain? Perhaps. Here's another question. Do I give a fuck?
- Jacob: I'm kinda right in the middle of a thing right now, but can I text you later?
- Girl at Club: Can you what?
- Jacob: Are you online at all?
- Girl at Club: I have no idea what you're talking about.
- Jacob: How do I get a hold of you?
- Girl at Club: You come find me.
- Jacob: That sounds... exhausting.
- Adam: [to Lou] You are the patron saint of the totally fucked. You're completely toxic. There's nothing you can't kill. You're the fucking Violator!
- Lou: [Trying to disclaim rumors of his impotence] I can't believe I'm fucking Adam's sister! I'm doing it! Oh God! I'm gonna cum! Shia Lebeouf! Dropping loads! So much fucking semen. Little Tiny Jacobs!
- Nick: Lou, why would he do this?
- Adam: Why? I mean make a list. He's an alcoholic, he's divorced, his wife ran off with that Jamaican guy.
- Nick: He's failed at every jived ass money hustle he's ever tried.
- Adam: He has a mountain of debt.
- Nick: He hates his mother.
- Adam: Hates himself, hates everybody.
- Nick: He has erectile dysfunction.
- Adam: He's got halitosis.
- Nick: He's got that right ball! One less ball, shriveled up
- Adam: Oh yeah!
- Nick: ...like a... spoiled grape.
- Adam: I don't know. It's just like an accumulation of punishment.
- Lou: [Throws a pillow] FUCK YOU GUYS!
- Adam: One little change has a ripple effect and it effects everything else. Like a butterfly floats its wings and Tokyo explodes or there's a tsunami, in like, you know, somewhere.
- Jacob: Yes exactly. You step on the bug and the fucking internet is never invented.
- Lou: Oh then you'll have to talk to girls with your mouth.
- Jacob: Yeah. No. I was more concerned about bigger consequences like not being born.
- Lou: Yeah. No. I don't care about that.
- Jacob: [To Lou] I knew I hated you for a reason, I'm gonna tell everyone in prison I went back in time to kill my own father!
- Kelly: Whatever! I'm gonna go to a party at the ski patrol house, I'm gonna find a sexy instructor and I'm gonna wax his fuckin' pole. Later, homos.
- Customer: Don't I know you? I know you! You're the singer from Chocolate Lipstick. You guys used to play at the Jam Shack on Friday nights.
- Nick: Damn! You remember that?
- Customer: Yeah. You were so good.
- Customer: Oh my God. Are you still singing?
- Nick: No no, that was a long time ago.
- Customer: Oh wow. What are you doing now?
- Customer: You get shit shit out of dog's asses. That's great.
- Lou: If I wanted to kill myself, I'd fucking kill myself. I'd be awesome at it. A shotgun to the dick.
- Nick: Just like Cincinatti.
- Lou: What?
- Adam: You're gonna bring that up?
- Lou: We said we weren't gonna talk about Cincinatti ever, okay?
- Jacob: Is that why you have that shoebox in your closet that says "Cincinatti"?
- Adam: Yeah!
- Lou: What? That's fucking admissible!
- Nick: You keep it in the closet?
- Adam: What was I supposed to do with it? You can't bury those things.
- Nick: You wrote "Cincinatti" on it?
- Adam: How do I know which one it's supposed to be?
- Jacob: Is it a fetus?
- Nick: My friends are ridiculous.
- Receptionist: I do have a reservation here for a Nick Webber-Agnew.
- Lou: [overhears Nick's name] ... Webber-Agnew?, Webber *fucking* Agnew?, you took your wife's last name?
- Nick: It's progressive, a lot of dudes are doing it.
- Adam: I knew this trip was a bad idea. Every time I hang out with you, man, it's some kind of shit storm. I got guilted into coming on this trip and now I'm back in the fuckin' '80s. And I hate this decade!
- Jacob: [from trailer] Do I really gotta be the asshole who says we got in this thing and went back in time?
- Lou: [to Jacob, while Lou is shocked that the former does not have ritalin] Don't fuckin' lie to me, every one of you people have ritalin.
- Nick: [Nick is having sex with Tara in the bathtub in order to keep the events of the past unchanged. Nick is crying about cheating on his wife] Courtney.
- Tara: Tara.
- Nick: Courtney.
- Tara: Tara.
- Nick: Courtney.
- Tara: No seriously my name is Tara.
- Nick: Not you, my wife.
- Tara: You're married?
- Nick: No, not yet, she's nine.
- Lou: Let's go to the bar, plan our empire. Fucking iPods, you know? Fucking Prius. Match.com. Anything.com. Fucking Internet.com! Fucking Zac Efron. Nobody invented him yet. What about Twitter? Whatever the fuck that is. Hey, we could combine Twitter with fucking Viagra. Twitt-agra.
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