[Good for him. Blake approves of macho posturing. Makes up for the ridiculous hair a little. He gestures at the bartender for another beer.]

Whenever I'm feeling sick of all the assholes and weird bullshit around here.

[And whenever he feels the need to brood about the past.]

...so, pretty often.

[He points at Dietrich.] But I don't fuckin' brood like some teenager. I just mull.

You know. Over shit.