They frame my junk. It's, like, Hey, you want to go down to the whirlpool? Yeah, I don't have a husband. I call it Swing City. Fried cheese… with club sauce. I've used one adjective to describe myself. What is it? I'm not interested in you that way. Tobias: What way? Michael: Pick one.

Annhog's coming? Steve Holt? The moron jock? She calls it a mayonegg.

The only person that gets Lucille this excited is Gene. We'll have to find something to do so that people can look at you without wanting to kill themselves.

No, no, it's pronounced a-nal-ra-pist. It wasn't really the pronunciation that bothered me. Yes, he's like the steel man from The Wizard From Oz. Let's make Ann the backup, okay? Very good way to think about her, as a backup.

I've always been deeply passionate about nature. Perhaps you remember Neuterfest? I'll never forget your wedding. Hey, maybe you could pop a tent outside with your cousin Maeby… it'd be a good chance to rub off on her. I'm afraid I'm with Michael on this one. The guy runs a prison, he can have any piece of ass he wants. Sister's my new mother, Mother. And is it just me or is she looking hotter? Wow. We're just blowing through nap time, aren't we. You just made a fool out of yourself in front of T-Bone. I want to cry so bad, but I don't think I can spare the moisture. First I blow him, then I poke him.

Let me take off my assistant's skirt and put on my Barbra-Streisand-in-The-Prince-of-Tides ass-masking therapist pantsuit. Sister's my new mother, Mother. And is it just me or is she looking hotter?

Quicken! Premiere! You burn down the storage unit? Oh, most definitely. Uncle Gob… was Aunt Lindsay ever pregnant? Yeah, sure, dozens of times. That's the first time we were in the shower since our honeymoon. And this time, no tears. In fact, it was a box of Oscar's legally obtained medical marijuana. Primo bud. Real sticky weed. Hey, it was one night of wild passion! And yet you didn't notice her body? I like to look in the mirror. George Michael may be suffering from what we in the soft-sciences call Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or the "OC Disorder."

Mission Accomplished. If I wanted something your thumb touched I'd eat the inside of your ear. Yeah, that's a cultural problem is what it is. You know, your average American male is in a perpetual state of adolescence, you know, arrested development. (Hey. That's the name of the show!) But anyhoo, can you believe that the only reason the club is going under is because it's in a terrifying neighborhood?

Well, obviously, I'm not a big guy. I'm not a Carl Weathers, par example. There are dozens of us! Dozens! I will pack your sweet pink mouth with so much ice cream you'll be the envy of every Jerry and Jane on the block! I think I might have someone who's going to circumvrent the law.

I figured out a way to make money while I'm working! That coat costs more than your house! Well, yeah you've gotta lock that down. Chickens don't clap! She calls it a mayonegg. I made a huge tiny mistake. Mister gay is bleeding! Mister gay! Mister gay is bleeding! Mister gay!