Of course. The "Bob Loblaw Law Blog." Wow. You, sir, are a mouthful! No one was making fun of Andy Griffith. I can't emphasize that enough. Now, do you wanna steer, or are you too old to sit on your Pop's lap and drive? Ah, it is a rock, though. Should beat everything. Gob: There's not a lot of logic to it. She keeps saying that God is going to show me a sign. The… something of my ways. Wisdom? It's probably wisdom. [Stabbing Gob] White power! Gob: I'm white! Turn this skiff around! A million [bleep]ing diamonds!

The only thing more terrifying than the escaped lunatic's hook was his twisted call… Hey campers! Did Ted make an appointment? No. Well then Ted can GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS OFFICE! YOU GET THE HELL OUT! Uncle Gob… was Aunt Lindsay ever pregnant? Yeah, sure, dozens of times. After all, why should you go to jail for a crime somebody else noticed? However, she mistook the drowsy eye alcohol warning for a winking eye alcohol suggestion.

Whenever she'd change clothes, she'd make me wait on the balcony until zip-up, and yet anything goes at bath time. Second-of-ly, I know you're the big marriage expert. Oh I'm sorry, I forgot, your wife is dead.

Okay, Lindsay, are you forgetting that I was a professional twice over - an analyst and a therapist. The world's first analrapist. You might enjoy this. Oh. Em. Gee. That's amazing. Could it be love? I know what an erection feels like, Michael. No, it's the opposite… like my heart is getting hard. For the same reason you should believe a hundred dollar bill is no more than a hundred pennies! Stack the chafing dishes outside by the mailbox. I'm on the job. Mr. Zuckerkorn, you've been warned about touching. You said spanking. Pound is tic-tac-toe right?

Let me out that Queen. Ah, it is a rock, though. Should beat everything. Gob: There's not a lot of logic to it. I'm an ideas man, Michael. I think I proved that with "Fuck Mountain." ♪♪ It's The Final Countdown ♪♪ It's a wonderful restaurant! Heyyyyyy Uncle Father Oscar. Well excuse me, Judge Reinhold. I mean, it's one banana, Michael. What could it cost, ten dollars?

I'm not a prostitute. Michael: Then I shall let you live! I'd rather be dead in California than alive in Arizona. Go ahead, touch the Cornballer. With spicy club sauce. She calls it a mayonegg. There's a girl in my soup!

Suddenly playing with yourself is a scholarly pursuit? Look, you are playing adults…with fully formed libidos, not 2 young men playing grab-ass in the shower.

Uncle Gob, was Aunt Lindsay ever pregnant? Yeah, sure, dozens of times. She's always got to wedge herself in the middle of us so that she can control everything. Yeah. Mom's awesome. [sniffs hand] Oh, God. I'm going to run this through again on "pots and pans." What is she doing at a beauty pageant? Is she running the lights or something? Get rid of the Seaward. Lucille: I'll leave when I'm good and ready.

This show was cancelled. I mean, COME ON. I was once called the worst audience participant Cirque du Soleil ever had. Yeah, like I'm going to spill coffee all over this $3,000 suit? Come on! I'll sacrifice anything for my children. Heart attack never stopped old big bear!

Pound is tic-tac-toe right? I made a huge tiny mistake. Oh, COME ON! If I make this comeback, I'll buy you a hundred George Michaels that you can teach to drive! You're blowing my mind, Frank. I don't want no part of yo' tight-ass country club, ya freak bitch!