Well, obviously, I'm not a big guy. I'm not a Carl Weathers, par example. The only thing I found in the fridge was a dead dove in a bag. Yes. Lindsay and I are planning a night of heterosexual intercourse. I know, I just call her Annabelle cause she's shaped like a…she's the belle of the ball!

Stop it, stop it. This objectification of women has to stop. It's just Mom and whores. Ah, it is a rock, though. Should beat everything. Gob: There's not a lot of logic to it. Chaw-chee, chaw-chee chaw-chee! Coo coo ca cha! Ah coodle doodle do Caw ca caw, caw ca caw.

So maybe you could start jete-ing, and stop je-terrorizing me! Are all the guys in here… you know? George Sr.: No, not all of them. Barry: Yeah. It's never the ones you hope. Yeah, well, have you seen the new Mustang? You could hump that hood. Way to plant, Ann! If mother sees this, she will blow a cow. It's as Ann as the nose on plain's face. One for the ladies. Don't leave your Uncle T-bag hanging.

Well, I hope you also carry a spare bowl of candy beans. This show was cancelled. I mean, COME ON. I'm an ideas man, Michael. I think I proved that with "Fuck Mountain." And that is why Jesus was often referred to as the King of Kings. Queens. The King of Queens.

Mister gay is bleeding! Mister gay! [climbing under trampoline] This shall keep me safe from the hot Mexican sun. If I wanted something your thumb touched, I'd eat the inside of your ear. I run a pretty tight ship around here. With a pool table. It's a gaming ship.

I just haven't had sex in a month. You know, you've been here two months. It's hard to gauge time. One of the guys told me to take my head out of my BOTTOM and get back to work…my BOTTOM! It was the first taste of alcohol Buster had since he was nursing.

But I'm the oldest. The matriarch if you will. Heyyyyyy Uncle Father Oscar. I'm an ideas man, Michael. I think I proved that with "Fuck Mountain." Don't leave your Uncle T-bag hanging. Annhog's coming?

I don't want no part of yo tight-ass country-club, ya freak bitch! I should be in this Poof. I hate the Wetlands. They're stupid and wet, and there are bugs everywhere, and I think I maced a crane. I need a fake passport, preferably to France…I like the way they think.

Up yours, granny! You couldn't handle it! A million ****ing diamonds! Say something that will terrify me. Lindsay: F*** me. Tobias: No, that didn't do it. It's sort of like going from prime rib to… I don't know… weird brother of prime rib. I think I might have someone who's going to circumvrent the law.

Happy Franklin Friday. Pound is tic-tac-toe, right? I know she's a brownish area! With points! And I love her!