All language subtitles for Californication S03E01 [1080p] [x265] [pseudo]

I love you, Karen,

and I'm gonna spend the rest of my life
annoying the shit out of you.

Will you marry me, Karen?

- You guys are officially back together?
- For now. Until we fuck it up.

Could be any second now.

You gonna shitcan 15 years' experience
cos a guy messes up one time?

You got fired?

- Charlie Runkle.
- Daisy.

I've been trying to get a frigging meeting
with Ronny Praeger.

- He's like the Spielberg of porn.
- I'll see what I can do.

That is so awesome!
And don't worry. I will blow you.

No, we're gonna keep this strictly business.

I'm king of fuck mountain!

It's not a memoir.

It's a written account
of my sexual relationship with you.

Written by me as a fucking novel.

- Lew Ashby.
- Hank Moody.

I got this book deal. Wanna write about
why everything I touch turns to gold.

Oh, no! You didn't!

Lew!

Where you headed?

I'm taking Fucking And Punching
all over this fair country of ours.

- Mothers, lock up your sons.
- And husbands.

- We made a huge mistake.
- No.

I jumped in the car with you that night,
and we just tried to pick up where we left off.

I can't stay.

It's OK, Dad.
It was nice while it lasted.

I wanna get a divorce.
I'm gonna be with Daisy.

You fucked my man.

- Maybe we should take a break.
- I just left my wife for you!

You said I could have everything.

But don't worry your pretty little head
about it. We'll let my lawyer figure it out.

He's really good. Later, Runkle.

- That's him.
- Him who?

- What do you want?
- I'm here to see Becca Moody.

I got a job. It's in New York.

I think you should come.
I can't live without this.

I feel kind of bad
splitting them up right now.

Well, then don't. You go, I stay.
At the end of the day, it's all about her.

I wish you hadn't just said all that.

- Why?
- Cos it just makes me love you even more.

Hank?

Hank.

- Hank.
- Yep. Present.

- Did you just...
- No.

- You did!
- Not me. I did not.

Hank...

Well, maybe for a second.

- Jesus Christ!
- No, don't... don't be cross.

- You fell asleep.
- I dozed. Barely.

- Inside of me.
- Maybe. For a second.

Now, it does not reflect poorly on you.

Or your vagina. It's a lovely vagina.

It's warm and cosy... inviting,
capacious, yet accommodating.

It's cheeky but not impudent,
you know what I'm saying?

- It's a lovely place to curl up inside.
- And go to sleep.

- Great. God, where's my fucking clothes?
- Not so fast.

Look, I may be tired,
but I'm also incredibly hard right now.

You feel that?
I just flexed my cock muscle.

That's pretty cool, huh?
Flexing it again and again and again.

Where's the harm in a few winks?

You know, single dadness
is not as easy as it looks.

I gotta be up way early to make
the morning meal and get the kid to school.

Then I gotta come home
and wrestle with the blank page.

You know, and before you know it,

it's time to get back in that fucking
pickup line all over again.

- Ever hear of carpooling?
- And then I gotta...

I gotta make some kind
of vaguely healthy evening meal.

I gotta monitor her computer
and texting activity. It's fucking exhausting.

I mean, I barely even have time
to get loaded any more.

Excuse me.

- Was that...
- No, you're wrong.

- But...
- You're wrong. Move on.

I thought you were all about
keeping yourself pure for Mom.

She's a friend. You know?
We were doing friend-like stuff.

Practically napping.

Hey, good for you. I'm not judging.

Mom's certainly not
keeping herself pure for you.

- What?
- Nothing. Move on.

Why are you guys even here?
You're supposed to be at the movies.

- We walked out.
- It was so fucking lame, Hank.

Hank? Really?

Uh-uh. It's Mr Moody to you, little missy.

Mr Moody.

Wait a second. You guys are stoned!

- Dad, please!
- Tell me where you got the weed.

I will kill the motherfucker. Tell me.

- In your typewriter.
- I knew it!

Damn it.

All right. Shit. Gimme what you got.

Fork it over. Everything.
I'm gonna weigh that.

No, no. Hold on, ladies.
I'm not done with you.

Now, look, hey, I am very well aware
that I don't always set the best example,

but you guys are entirely too young
to be messing around with this stuff.

You know, it's true what they say about pot.
It's very much a gateway drug.

It can be a gateway
to some pretty cool things.

But it can also lead to poverty, despair,
stunted adolescence, man-breasts.

You think that's funny?

Oh, go on, get outta here. Both of you.
To be continued, young lady.

- What up, chocolate sweetness?
- Who are you here to see?

- Runkle.
- Whose uncle?

Runkle. Charlie Runkle.

Oh, the cute little bald guy.

Just so's you know,
not a pose that inspires confidence

in your one and only client.

It's this goddamn economy, Hank.

You can't blame everything
on the economy, douchebag.

No? Can I blame it for the fact
that no one wants to publish your book?

- Nonsense. People love me.
- No one, Hank. Not a soul.

- What the fuck, Runkle?
- I don't know.

I been collecting passes all morning.
It's too long. It's too self-indulgent.

It's too hateful, too misogynistic.

- It's too soft. It's too mean-spirited.
- Like those are bad things?

I can't believe I'm gonna say this out loud,
but what about the studios?

Nope. They're not biting either.

Hollywood doesn't want something else
from the unrepentant asshole

that brought you
Crazy Little Thing Called Love One...

- Hank.
...and Dos?

Hank, I told you to play nice, didn't I?
I told you not to fuck the director's wife.

I told you not to leave
a burning bag of your own faeces

- on the producer's doorstep.
- That still cracks me up.

That's a big fucking bummer, Charlie.

I could really use an influx of cashish
right about now.

The money from the Ashby book
only went so far.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get in line, asshole.

I was kinda looking forward
to the new Hank Moody book too, you know?

What do you mean,
he wants to reschedule?

Tell him I'll gnaw off his thimble dick
and feed it to my cats!

- Runkle, quit beating your meat.
- Never gets old, Sue.

Hank Moody, my boss, Sue Collini.

Pleasure to have you
at the Harry Greenberg Agency, Hank.

The pleasure is all mine. Obviously.

Ah, your man Runkle...

Now when you talk about
a cock of the walk, huh...

Really?

I mean, this guy's a stud!
And his head...

It just makes you wanna give it a big lick
and see what comes out of it.

- Please don't.
- Of course not. It would be inappropriate.

Meet me for a drink later.

Actually, I'm supposed
to do something with Hank here.

- Me? I don't think we have any plans.
- Yeah, I think we do.

No, I'm pretty sure we don't.

Excellent. I'm all yours, Sue.

Right. Better lay down those carbs, Runkle.
We're goin' deep.

Collini... out.

What fresh hell is this?

- Hey. It's Rip van Winkle.
- Oh, hey!

I think we should give it another shot.

You know, I took a nap.
I'm fresh as a fucking daisy.

- Becca's dad, right?
- Yikes.

It depends on what she's done
to raise your ire.

Becca? Oh, no, Becca's adorable.
It's her father I have an issue with.

Oh, well, take a number and get in line.

I'll tell him you're waiting.
If I see him, of course.

- Felicia Koons. Chelsea's mum?
- Oh, boy.

Howdy. Hank Moody.

Yeah. So I guess I was wondering why
my daughter came home stoned last night.

- Are you sure she was stoned?
- I know a stoned teenager when I see one.

- I'm a college professor.
- Shit. I guess the jig is up.

You know, far be it from me
to pass judgment

on your recreational activities,

but maybe you should make
your dope a little less accessible?

I mean, what else do I have to worry about?
Do you have guns in the house too?

Yes, I do, but I keep 'em in the freezer.
Right next to the heroin.

You know, you're absolutely right.
I fucked up. I won't do it again. I get it.

That shit's just for my glaucoma anyway,
you know?

- Father.
- Hey, speak of the she-devils.

- Can I go over to Chelsea's?
- Well...

That would depend on Chelsea

and her lovely,
"far too young to be a mother" here.

- Mom?
- Sure. Why not?

- Pick her up later.
- OK.

Actually, stay for dinner.
We're having some people over.

No. I don't play well with others.

- It wouldn't turn out well for anybody.
- It's true, he doesn't.

Look, if we're going to be bailing
these two out of jail every now and again,

we may as well get to know each other
a little better.

So be there. Keep the weed at home.

Sure thing, Teach.

And that brings us
to the issue of the house.

I just want my fair share.

It's been sitting on the market
for months now, Charlie. It's not selling.

Maybe if you weren't too busy
bringing every unemployed actor in LA

with a cougar fetish back to my house,
you could focus on getting it sold.

First, it's our house.

And second, if you weren't too busy

trying to shove your angry inch into
every damage case that crosses your path,

we wouldn't even be in this mess
to begin with.

Can I get a fucking amen?
Unce, unce!

Look, all I'm saying is...

I can't afford to keep paying rent
and mortgage at the same time.

He's hiding money somewhere.
I know it!

There's nothing to hide!
She snorted it all!

- You're working as an agent again!
- I'm working on commission!

Really? That's pathetic, Charlie.

Agreed. It's the only way
I could get back in the business, OK?

It's not like the top five
were rolling out the red carpet for me.

I wonder why.
Oh, that's right.

They were probably afraid
you'd jerk off all over it.

You know what?
Have it your way, OK?

I'll just... I'll move back in.

- Hells no!
- What? You said so yourself.

It's our house.
My name's on the mortgage too. You know?

That can't be right. Tell him, Marv!

What can I say?
It's perfectly within his rights.

Oh! Yes! Finally! I win!

- Asshole.
- Hey.

Saving the planet doesn't give you
the right to be an asshole.

- Fuck you!
- Fuck me?

Yeah, that's right. Fuck you!

Live strong, asshole.

- Hello?
- Hank Moody.

Hello.

I'd like to introduce you
to Richard Bates, the writer.

- Richard Bates. Wow.
- He's going to be teaching here this year.

- It's a huge coup for us.
- Big fan.

- I just feel a slight man crush coming on.
- Well, thank you, aren't you kind?

- This is my TA.
- Jill Robinson. Nice to meet ya.

Jill, the pleasure is all yours. Or mine.

OK, ours.

Hank is quite the accomplished novelist
in his own right.

- That's right. I googled you.
- I feel pleasantly violated.

So you were just gonna
show me to the little girls' room.

Sure thing. Follow me.

- Tinkle, tinkle.
- Right this way.

Drink with me. I insist.

- Oh, no, thank you.
- No, no, please.

- No, I'm fine.
- Crack The Sky was a big deal for me.

I felt like I was climbing
Kilimanjaro with you.

Gave me a huge writing boner.
Come on. Please?

Pretty please?

To the blank page.

- Wow. That was something.
- It sure was.

Haven't touched the stuff since Slick Willy
was in the White House.

- Fuck me.
- Yes.

- Now pour me another.
- Oh, no, no. The bar just closed.

One was an honour,
but I'm cutting you off.

Give me the fucking bottle, bush league,
before they come back.

Give...

- No. No.
- Give me the bottle.

- No.
- Come here!

My balls. Oh, shit.

- Thank you.
- Don't say anything.

Oh, my goodness.

Whose piece of shit Porsche is that?

- Stacy, what happened?
- Oh, you wouldn't believe it.

- Some fucking asshole...
- Well... It's actually kind of a classic.

- I just...
- Stacy, this is Becca's father.

Hank Moody, the writer.

Stacy, I do believe I can see
the outline of your cock.

It looks like you've got yourself
a nice big fire helmet down there.

I'm more of an anteater myself.
Enhances sensitivity.

Shall we dine?

Times are tough, Runkle.

I need you to sign motherfuckers
and put them to work.

That's what I want.
That's what you promised me.

Absolutely. You're right, Sue.
You can count on me.

I stepped away from the game
for a little while, but I am back now.

- I'm just a little rusty.
- Rusty.

You mean like a trombone?
Hey, anybody ever give you one of those?

I don't believe so.

Trust me, you'd remember.

Anilingus... with a tug job.

Ought to try it.

What's your favourite position?

- Sexually?
- Yeah.

- I don't see how that's at all relevant...
- I like a stand-up 69.

- You ever try it?
- That sounds challenging.

Exactly! Which is why you end up
coming like a baby gorilla.

So what's your take on interoffice romance?

I appreciate the interest, Sue.
Really, I do.

But I am right in the middle
of a nasty divorce.

I'm what they call emotionally unavailable.

Emotions?
Who needs emotions?

I'm thinking about your tube steak.
Is that unavailable too?

Oh, you can play hard to get
all you like, Runkle.

Whatever makes you wet.

But Sue Collini always gets the wienie.

Always.

Bottoms up, cowboy.

Right of way or not,
you were definitely hogging the road.

- You flicked your cigarette at me.
- Sure. But you gave me the finger.

That got my Irish up.
That was downright antisocial of you.

Yes. But you were honking
your horn repeatedly.

Which brings us back full circle
to the fact that you were hogging the road.

- I'm just sayin'...
- I had the right of way.

- Who says?
- State of California.

- I don't agree.
- He doesn't agree.

- I don't agree.
- Can we change the subject, please?

I'm fine with that.
I mean, I've already moved on.

And I won't hold any grudges. I'm cool.

- Hate the game, not the player.
- I'll drink to that.

- Unbelievable.
- Can we be excused?

- Please. I insist.
- Hey, ladies, no Mary Jane.

I'm serious. Try me. I'm like a drug-sniffing
dog with a hard-on for justice.

- Yeah. Hey...
- Father.

- Now get outta here.
- Jesus.

OK, I'm gonna throw this out to the table.

What are you guys thinking,
gay, bi-curious, huh? What?

What is wrong with you?

What? I'm the asshole just because
I say what's on everybody's mind?

- It never occurred to me.
- Actually, me neither.

I can't really say I see it myself.

Little girls in pretty boxes.

Well, I'm not afraid
to put it out there, you know?

And if my daughter decides she's a gay,

I cannot think of a nicer gal that she can,

you know,
indulge her Sapphic tendencies with.

- That's vaguely sweet, I think.
- Yes. Vaguely nauseating.

Where is the boom-boom room?

It's just down the hall, Richard, to your left.

Good squash.

Ten years' sobriety, down the drain.
Nice job.

How is he gonna get up in front of a class?

- Well, you know what they say.
- No, what do they say, Hank?

You really have to want to quit.
You gotta hit rock bottom.

- Can I have a word with you, dear?
- Sure, darling.

So what's your story, morning glory?

- I'm 33.
- Perfect.

- I'm getting my PhD on.
- Perfect.

English lit. I love to read.

That's my drug of choice, the written word.

And...
I just ended a five-year relationship

that yielded me a big, fat nothing.

Not to make it sound like
a cold, hard business deal, but...

Whatever.

And my 20s went by
like a warm summer day,

and now my uterus is
deteriorating with every breath.

So, yeah, I see it all.
You're handsome and you're funny and...

Really, unless you're a serious prospect,
do not so much as smile at me.

Really, truly. Don't try to charm me.

It would just be a heinous crime

against the other sex,
given this full disclosure.

And I'm hard.

No, please, seriously.
You're really dangerous. Please stay away.

Let's try again, shall we?

That's mighty white of you, Stace.

- Stacy.
- Stacy.

- Koons, right?
- That's right.

You're the dean
of this fine institute of fancy book learning?

- Correct.
- Which would make you Dean Koons?

I've heard that one before.

Who wants to see me tuck
and do the pee-pee dance?

Oh, my God. Richard!

Come on. I can't be the only one.

- And then, just like that...
- Where are the girls?

He unveiled his beautiful man-pussy.

His glorious mangina.

Meet my peach, baby, blow on my dice

I wanna swing that swing
Don't you treat me nice

- Richard, let me...
- I'm wild for you

- Let me call you a cab. Let me...
- Sweet baby, I'm a child for you

- Let's get your clothes.
- Why don't you stay in the guest room?

- Stacy.
- Yeah.

Have you ever spent time
with an 11 -year-old boy

and wanted more from him
than he was willing to give?

Have you ever breathed in the scent of
a woman's sweaty, unwashed sex and just...

...wanted to bottle and sell it at market?

Have you ever been so drunk on cock

you howled at the moon

and begged for a few inches more?

Ladies? Dean Koons?

All these questions and more
will be answered...

...in my new novel.

- Let's get you dressed.
- First, I wanna go for a swim!

Love that guy.
Big fan.

- Big dick.
- Wow!

What do you want, Charlie?
I'm watching my stories.

Marcy Ellen Runkle.
I love you.

Go home, you miserable sack of shit.
Sleep it off!

But this is my home! This!
And you know why?

Because Marcy lives here.

She's my home.

- My true west.
- North.

- What?
- True north.

- That's what they say.
- Who?

Oh. What?

Hey, Marce...

Let's give it another shot.
What do you say?

- No?
- OK, fair enough.

Can I use the bathroom?

I have to go numero dos,

and I don't know if I'm gonna make it
back to Westwood in time.

Make it quick, asshole.

You sure Becca's OK to spend the night?

Yeah. Let her sleep.
I'll drop her off in the morning.

But you'll keep an eye on them?

Oh, right. For signs of lesbianism.
Yeah. Will do. I'll be vigilant.

Sorry about the drama tonight.
You must think I'm a world-class A-hole.

Don't know about the world-class.

Yeah, well, thank you. What about Bates?
Is he gonna be able to do his thing?

From rehab? I doubt it.

You wouldn't happen to know
of any other bad-boy novelists

looking for a teaching gig, would you?

I don't know. I will bring it up
at the next union meeting.

- Good night.
- Night.

Where are you headed?

- Just home to the cats.
- Sounds hot.

How about a libation?

Like that could possibly end well.

Oh, look at you with the foresight and all.

- Well played, lady.
- Thanks.

Good night, Mr Moody.
It was a pleasure meeting you.

Good night, psycho.
Take good care of that uterus.

Oh, my God, Charlie.

- What are you doing in there?
- It's my IBS!

You know how it kicks in
in times of extreme duress.

Well, this is one of those times!

All right. It's all right.

Miserable slob.

Guest room. Go.

- What up, lady fair?
- Hank, it's late.

And yet you don't sound
even remotely sleepy.

- Burning the midnight oil?
- Something like that.

I get it. Big date, huh?

- I'm not sure how big it was.
- Gross.

Bad breath. HOB.

- HOB?
- Hair On Back.

Well, now I'm starting to feel better.

- What about you?
- What about me?

Our monkey in the middle
said something about

crossing paths with a friend of yours.

- Oh, she's a little meddler, that one.
- That she is.

Well, not to worry.

Bad breath. HOB.

I miss you.

I miss you too.

It ain't the same without you, you know.

That's nice to hear.

I think it's good, though.

- What's good?
- We're living our lives.

We're being all normal
and responsible and...

like real, live grown-ups.

Well, yeah, I do feel
vaguely functional these days.

You know, I think
you might even be proud of me.

I'm always proud of you.

Even when I'm not.

That's nice to hear.

- But...
- But what?

What if, in the process of being...

all responsible and grown-up like,
we...

just kinda get over each other?

What if...

you tell me about our daughter?

Well...

Things are changing, Karen,
just like you said they would.

I mean, fast, you know, but I'm...

I'm holding on as hard as I can,
and I am not gonna let go.

I mean, I won't forget you...