My brother wasn't optimistic it could be done, but I didn't take "wasn't optimistic it could be done" for an answer. Yes, she happens to be more experienced than a normal girl, but sometimes love should be… terrifying. Butterscotch! Want a lick? Even it means me taking a chubby… I will suck it up. Don't ask "Can I"… ask "I Can!" What about macaroni – let me finish – salad? I'm gonna build me an airport, put my name on it. Why, Michael? So you can fly away from your feelings? Teamocil.

In the mid '90s, Tobias formed a folk music band with Lindsay and Maebe which he called Dr. Funke's 100 Percent Natural Good Time Family Band Solution. The group was underwritten by the Natural Food Life Company, a division of Chem-Grow, an Allen Crayne acqusition, which was part of the Squimm Group. Their motto was simple: We keep you alive. Don't ask "Can I"… ask "I Can!"

What, so the guy we are meeting with can't even grow his own hair? COME ON! He… she… what's the difference? Oh hear, hear. In the dark, it all looks the same. Early.

Waiting for the Emmys. BTW did you know won 6 Emmys and was still canceled early by Fox? COME ON. The only person that gets Lucille this excited is Gene. I've got a nice hard cot with his name on it. You'd do that to your own brother? I said "cot."

Well, obviously, I'm not a big guy. I'm not a Carl Weathers, par example. 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'.

You don't want a hungry dove down your pants. 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]. Taste the happy, Michael! Taste it! These are my awards, Mother. From Army. The seal is for marksmanship, and the gorilla is for sand racing. They frame my junk. Teamocil. 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. Heart attack never stopped old big bear.

I didn't mean who… I meant… her? Oh, I can just taste those meaty leading man parts in my mouth.

It's a jetpack, Michael. What could possibly go wrong? Taste the happy, Michael. Taste it. It tastes kind of like sad. But I didn't take wasn't optimistic it could be done for an answer.

Well excuse me for liking the way they frame my junk! Don't call my escorts whores. I've used one adjective to describe myself. What is it? And the soup of the day is bread. I need a fake passport, preferably to France… I like the way they think.

I'll sacrifice anything for my children. Ah, it is a rock, though. Should beat everything. Gob: There's not a lot of logic to it. [Stabbing Gob] White power! Gob: I'm white! You're blowing my mind, Frank. No, Pop-pop does not get a treat, I just brought you a [bleep]ing pizza.