George Michael may be suffering from what we in the soft-sciences call Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or the "OC Disorder." I want to cry so bad, but I don't think I can spare the moisture. If I look like a man who made love to his wife last night – it's because I almost did. The only person that gets Lucille this excited is Gene. If this tableau I recreate, perhaps I can re-snare my mate. Let the great experiment begin!

I'm a scholar. I enjoy scholarly pursuits. Suddenly playing with yourself is a scholarly pursuit? You can control your bladder when you're dead! You stay on top of her, Buddy. Don't be afraid to ride her. Hard. You might wanna lean away from that fire since you're soaked in alcohol. I was set up. By the Brits. A group of British builders operating outside the O.C. The worst that could happen is that I could spill coffee all over this $3,000 suit. COME ON.

She tried pesto for the first time. Imagine that, 92 years old and she never tried pesto. Friday night. It's Sunday, but screw it — juice box time. Could it be love? I know what an erection feels like, Michael. No, it's the opposite. It's like my heart is getting hard.

Here he comes. Here comes John Wayne. Oh, yeah, the $4,000 suit is holding the elevator for a guy who doesn't make that in 3 months. Come on! 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'. Boy, I sure feel like a Mary without a Peter and a Paul.

It's ok. You be with Yam. I deceived you, mom. Tricked makes it sound like we have a playful relationship.

If you didn't have adult onset diabetes, I wouldn't mind giving you a little sugar. Everybody dance NOW. Come on, this is a Bluth family celebration. It's no place for children.

I'd rather be dead in California than alive in Arizona. Mission Accomplished. It seems like only yesterday you were bursting forth from your mother's fertile womb. Did Ted make an appointment? No. Well then Ted can GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS OFFICE! YOU GET THE HELL OUT! Taste the happy, Michael. Taste it. It tastes kind of like sad. Annhog's coming? After all, why should you go to jail for a crime somebody else noticed? But anyhoo, can you believe that the only reason the club is going under is because it's in a terrifying neighborhood?

O-kay, who'd like a banger in the mouth? Yeah, well, have you seen the new Mustang? You could hump that hood. Look at us, crying like a couple of girls on the last day of camp. Do you guys know where I could get one of those gold necklaces with the T on it? That's a cross. Across from where? I've been in the film business for a while but I just can't seem to get one in the can. Excuse me, do these effectively hide my thunder? Or it could be your colon. I'd want to get in there and find some answers.

Dad would stage elaborate situations using a one-armed man to teach us lessons. Gosh Mom… after all these years, God's not going to take a call from you. ♪♪ It's The Final Countdown ♪♪ Wow, this is the best free scrapbooking class I've ever taken! ps This one really cracks me up for some reason. Oh, I can just taste those meaty leading man parts in my mouth. I know what an erection feels like, Michael. No, it's the opposite. It's like my heart is getting hard. I think I might have someone who's going to circumvrent the law. Speaking of settling, How's Ann?

Taste the happy, Michael! Taste it! He… she… what's the difference? Oh hear, hear. In the dark, it all looks the same. Early. Can you believe that the only reason the club is going under is because it's in a terrifying neighborhood? Stack the chafing dishes outside by the mailbox. I'm on the job.