Why are you squeezing me with your body? It's a hug, Michael. I'm hugging you. You were just a turd out there, you know? You couldn't kick, and you couldn't run, you know? You were just a turd.

I am going to my spin class. I thought you had vertigo. You're losing blood, aren't you? Gob: Probably, my socks are wet. These are my awards, Mother. From Army. The seal is for marksmanship, and the gorilla is for sand racing. ♪♪ It ain't easy being white. It ain't easy being brown. ♪♪ Dead Dove DO NOT EAT. I think that's one of Mom's little fibs, you know, like I'll sacrifice anything for my children. I've always been deeply passionate about nature. Perhaps you remember Neuterfest? I'll never forget your wedding. Stop it, stop it. This objectification of women has to stop. It's just Mom and whores.

It's as Ann as the nose on Plain's face. Chickens don't clap! It's as Ann as the nose on plain's face. Yeah, well, have you seen the new Mustang? You could hump that hood. I just don't want him to point out my cracker ass in front of Ann. Everybody dance NOW. I was once called the worst audience participant Cirque du Soleil ever had.

Mission Accomplished. Can't a guy call his mother pretty without it seeming strange? Amen. And how about that little piece of tail on her? Cute! Perhaps an attic shall I seek. Okay, Lindsay, are you forgetting that I was a professional twice over - an analyst and a therapist. The world's first analrapist. Shémale. I'll have a vodka rocks. (Mom, it's breakfast time.) And a piece of toast. Wow, this is the best free scrapbooking class I've ever taken! ps This one really cracks me up for some reason. Hey, Dad. Look at you. You're a year older…and a year closer to death. Buster: Oh yeah, I guess that's kind of funny.

I may have committed some light treason. Maybe it was the eleven months he spent in the womb. The doctor said there were claw marks on the walls of her uterus. Buster's in what we like to call a light to no coma. In layman's terms, it might be considered a very heavy nap. George Bush doesn't care about black puppets. She's not that Mexican, Mom. She's my Mexican. And she's Columbian or something. If I look like a man who made love to his wife last night – it's because I almost did. Well, if you want to play Eve, you got to get in line behind what, above five homos. Oh, I can just taste those meaty leading man parts in my mouth.

No, she's in it. She's a contestant. It's sorta like an inner beauty pageant. Ah, there it is. Well, I hope you also carry a spare bowl of candy beans.

I'm going to buy you the single healthiest call girl this town has ever seen. Everybody dance NOW. You stay on top of her, Buddy. Don't be afraid to ride her. Hard. I'm a complete failure. I can't even fake the death of a stripper. Well, Michael, I did not find their buffoonery amusing. Tobias is Queen Mary. Those are balls.

Boy, I sure feel like a Mary without a Peter and a Paul. Speaking of settling, how's Ann? And don't make the water too hot. The scabs come right off. That's my son, you pothead! I figured out a way to make money while I'm working!

There are very few intelligent, attractive and straight men in this town. Well, that certainly leaves me out. Yes. Lindsay and I are planning a night of heterosexual intercourse.

I'm a complete failure. I can't even fake the death of a stripper. I think that's one of Mom's little fibs, you know, like I'll sacrifice anything for my children. Turn this skiff around! George Bush doesn't care about black puppets. I'll have a vodka rocks. (Mom, it's breakfast time.) And a piece of toast. I didn't mean who… I meant… her? But where did the lighter fluid come from? Why are you squeezing me with your body? It's a hug, Michael. I'm hugging you.