I'm a complete failure. I can't even fake the death of a stripper. Sweet old thing. Only two of those words describe Mom, so I know you're lying to me. So you take your mom to work every day? Bummer. Moms are such a pain in the ass, huh? It's, like, die already! One for the ladies. Even it means me taking a chubby… I will suck it up. One of the guys told me to take my head out of my BOTTOM and get back to work…my BOTTOM! Hahahaha. Oh, yeah, the $4,000 suit is holding the elevator for a guy who doesn't make that in 3 months. Come on! Heyyyy uncle father Oscar.

Please refrain from discussing or engaging in any sort of interoffice [bleep] or [bleep] or finger[bleep] or [bleep]sting or [bleep] or even [bleep]. Teamocil. What do you think about Sudden Valley? It sounds like a salad dressing, but for some reason I don't want to eat it. I could use a leather jacket for when I'm on my hog and have to go into a controlled slide. Happy.

Heyyyyy, hermano. What is she doing at a beauty pageant? Is she running the lights or something? Perhaps an attic shall I seek. I see you've wasted no time in filling my seat hole. Mission Accomplished.

Do the right thing here. String this blind girl along so that dad doesn't have to pay his debt to society. She's trying to prove that she's closer to my children than I am, but the joke's on her, because she doesn't know how little I care for GOB. Well, I spent so much time making sweet love on my wife that it's hard to hear anything over the clatter of her breasts. Oh, hi, Mom. I have the afternoon free. Really? Did "nothing" cancel? Yeah, like I'm going to spill coffee all over this $3,000 suit? Come on! Quicken! Premiere!

But anyhoo, can you believe that the only reason the club is going under is because it's in a terrifying neighborhood? She's a contestant. It's sorta like an inner beauty pageant. Ah, there it is. That's my son, you pothead! Get rid of the Seaward. Lucille: I'll leave when I'm good and ready. Everybody dance NOW. Fried cheese… with club sauce. Popcorn shrimp… with club sauce. Chicken fingers… with spicy club sauce.

You want your belt to buckle, not your chair. We need a name. Maybe 'Operation Hot Mother'. [climbing under trampoline] This shall keep me safe from the hot Mexican sun. Obviously this blue part here is the land. George Michael, you want to put your head down there by his drainage shunt?

You might wanna lean away from that fire since you're soaked in alcohol. Everybody dance… NOW. It's one banana Michael, what could it cost, ten dollars? The guy runs a prison, he can have any piece of ass he wants.

He also said some things African American-y wasn't ready to hear. How am I supposed to find someone willing to go into that musty old claptrap?

One of the guys told me to take my head out of my BOTTOM and get back to work…my BOTTOM! Hahahaha. Turns out he ended up getting too friendly with the teddy bear. One for the ladies. Never once touched my per diem. I'd go to Craft Service, get some raw veggies, bacon, Cup-A-Soup…baby, I got a stew goin'. I know what an erection feels like, Michael. You might wanna lean away from that fire since you're soaked in alcohol. Did Ted make an appointment? No. Well, then Ted can GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS OFFICE! YOU GET THE HELL OUT! Ah coodle doodle doo, ah coodle doodle doo.

I've been in the film business for a while but I just cant seem to get one in the can. My brother wasn't optimistic it could be done, but I didn't take "wasn't optimistic it could be done" for an answer. Hey, maybe you could pop a tent outside with your cousin Maeby… it'd be a good chance to rub off on her. NO TOUCHING! If this tableau I recreate, perhaps I can re-snare my mate. I should be in this Poof.