Seahorse

Mad Dogs × 9

& Cobi: Textile? Who says textile? What, are you John fucking Adams?
    Joel: You know what I mean. It’s, like, a fabric, like, a cloth.

& Aaron: 15 miles in under 30 minutes. Heart rate never got above... go ahead and guess. ... 110 BPMs.

& Lawrence: Instead of being the all-day smart-ass, why don’t you listen to someone who actually knows what he’s talking about? ’Cause you can have all the Internet skills and diplomas and triathlon fucking medals you want, but at the end of the day, the only thing that actually matters in this business is contacts. That means talking to people, getting to know them, gaining their trust.

& Lawrence: I’m a who’s who of Belize. I’m a human fucking phone book.
    Aaron: Now, see, that is exactly my point. Nobody uses the phone book anymore!
    Lawrence: I’ve been here for 20 years, you fucking prick. And nobody has a clue who I am. You’re already known locally as the wanker on the bike who smells of fish. Hardly fucking covert.

& Lex: Do you know, uh, who Jesus is? Can... can you show us where he lives? ¿La casa de Jesus, Si?

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& Gus: Guys. We should gift wrap this thing, right? Can’t just take it like this.

& Lady: You have a number?
    Cobi: What?
    Lady: You have a number?
    Cobi: Three... Seven?.. Okay, three.

& Joel: That belongs to Jesus.

& Jazmin: We are where Mexico, Guatemala and Belize intersect. We are nowhere. There’s a saying up here. Keep your mother in Guatemala, your wife in Belize and your girlfriend in Mexico. Isn’t that right, Pablo?

& Joel: I think the «J» on the jacket isn’t for Jesus. I think it’s for Jazmin. I think you’re Jesus.
    Jazmin: Ooh. Jesus is my father. He’s on vacation.

& Gus: I located my dad. I got sentimental and found him online. Linkedin. He’s been stocking groceries for the last ten years in the same place.
    Lex: Why does he need a Linkedin account?

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