Shit, I can't believe I missed this. The band was a God awful novelty, but there was something extraordinarily brilliant about what they did. I guess it was how they continued to go over the explicit edge as if it was some infinite void of unique repetition.
Jack: You need to get laid, Miles. You know what? That's going to be my best man gift to you this week. I'm gonna get you laid.
Miles Raymond: Wonderful.
Jack: I'm not gonna get you a gift certificate or a pen knife or any of that other horse shit.
Miles Raymond: I'd rather have a knife.