Phyllis: This dance is called "The Freddie." I know, I know. Life is so ironic.
Annie: You can't put wine in Hobo stew.
Phyllis: Why not? What goes better with Hobos than wine?
Phyllis: It was a cold and rainy day in March. I went to Kristoff's where I usually get my hair done but Kristoff wasn't there. He had mysteriously disappeared. In his place was a stranger named Rinaldo. I'll never forget him. His eyes were steely gray. His hands were like ice. He said, "I'll streak your hair and I'll give you a body wave." He worked very fast and then, as he turned my chair around to face the mirror, I saw it. He permed me.
Phyllis: Oh, what glorious patches.
Jamie: Thank you, ma'am.
Phyllis: Where can I buy them?
Cleo: Ma'am, you don't buy them, you earn them.
Phyllis: Oh! Like jewelry.
Rosa: Patches? We don't need no stinkin patches.
Phyllis: Her recommendations for a campsite were totally unsuitable. There were no outlets. And there was dirt, and bugs, and... and it rains there. So anyway, we've found a place that's much more us: the Beverly Hills Hotel.
Phyllis: I may be a beginner at some things, but I've got a black belt in shopping.
Phyllis: You never give me credit for anything I do.
Freddy: That's because you never do anything.