You're Killing Me, Buster. Taste the happy, Michael. Taste it. It tastes kind of like sad. I guess you can say I'm buy-curious. Yes, Annyong. Your name is Annyong! We all know you're Annyong! Don't leave your Uncle T-bag hanging.

She calls it a mayonegg. This is not what it looks like. It looks like you're tweaking her nipples through a chain-link fence. Perhaps an attic shall I seek. He also said some things African American-y wasn't ready to hear. I shall hide behind the couch. (Guy's a pro.) YOU'RE the Chiclet! Not me. Caw ca caw, caw ca caw, caw ca caw! Speaking of settling, How's Ann?

I've got a nice hard cot with his name on it. You'd do that to your own brother? I said "cot." Yeah, well, have you seen the new Mustang? You could hump that hood. I will be a bigger and hairier mole than the one on your inner left thigh! Dead Dove DO NOT EAT. Nellie is blowing them all AWAY.

You might wanna lean away from that fire since you're soaked in alcohol. You stay on top of her, Buddy. Don't be afraid to ride her. Hard. For there's a man inside me, and only when he's finally out, can I walk free of pain. I need a tea to give my dingle less tingle.

If that man's straight, then I am sober. They're not gonna strip, right? I told them not to, but I can't guarantee their instincts won't kick in.

[climbing under trampoline] This shall keep me safe from the hot Mexican sun. Dead Dove DO NOT EAT. No, Pop-pop does not get a treat. I just bought you a f**king pizza. I think the only time you cooked for us was the morning Rosa's mom died. You gave us cereal in an ashtray. A group of British builders operating outside the O.C.

She's a contestant. It's sorta like an inner beauty pageant. Ah, there it is. 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. Saw this on the highway and almost blue myself. Hop on? And guess what else is back. [slow wink] My breakfast? My friskiness. Mama horny Michael. Did Ted make an appointment? No. Well then Ted can GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS OFFICE! YOU GET THE HELL OUT!

Sweet old thing. Only two of those words describe Mom, so I know you're lying to me. Well, obviously, I'm not a big guy. I'm not a Carl Weathers, par example.

Why are you squeezing me with your body? Oh, I can just taste those meaty leading man parts in my mouth. What's next, Michael? Are you going to make dancing illegal? Is this the tiny town from Footloose? Well, they got the Asian right… "hotties" might be a stretch. There are very few intelligent, attractive and straight men in this town. Well, that certainly leaves me out. YOU'RE the Chiclet! Not me. Caw ca caw, caw ca caw, caw ca caw! This is not me encouraging you to go here and write a review. No.

Now, do you wanna steer, or are you too old to sit on your Pop's lap and drive? Why are you squeezing me with your body? It's a hug, Michael. I'm hugging you. Whenever she'd change clothes, she'd make me wait on the balcony until zip-up, and yet anything goes at bath time. I'm sure, wherever your father is, she loves you very much. If that man's straight, then I am sober. 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. A million ****ing diamonds!