Why are you squeezing me with your body? It's a hug, Michael. I'm hugging you. I'm in Vegas this week and would like to point out the Blue Man Group is *actually* hiring. The support group?
Yeah, like I'm going to take a whiz through this $5,000 suit. COME ON. She keeps saying that God is going to show me a sign. The… something of my ways.
You stay on top of her, Buddy. Don't be afraid to ride her. Hard. You stay on top of her Buddy. Don't be afraid to ride her. Hard. No, Pop-pop does not get a treat. I just bought you a f**king pizza. Uncle Gob… was Aunt Lindsay ever pregnant? Yeah, sure, dozens of times. A group of British builders operating outside the O.C. And here you are coming out of your mother's third base! And here you are coming out of your mother's third base! I am having a love affair with this ice cream sandwich.
Up yours, granny! You couldn't handle it! [Stabbing Gob] White power! Gob: I'm white! I know what an erection feels like, Michael. Let me take off my assistant's skirt and put on my Barbra-Streisand-in-The-Prince-of-Tides ass-masking therapist pantsuit. Fun and failure both start out the same way. He also said some things African American-y wasn't ready to hear. I believe you will find the dessert to be both engrossing and high-grossing! So we don't get dessert?
Obviously this blue part here is the land. Obviously this blue part here is the land. Waiting for the Emmys. BTW did you know won 6 Emmys and was still canceled early by Fox? COME ON. Turn this skiff around! No, she's in it. She's a contestant. It's sorta like an inner beauty pageant. Ah, there it is. You must teach me the ways of the secular flesh.
I spent so much time making sweet love on my wife that it's hard to hear anything over the clatter of her breasts. It seems like only yesterday you were bursting forth from your mother's fertile womb. George Michael may be suffering from what we in the soft-sciences call Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or the "OC Disorder." It walked on my pillow! I don't care if it takes from now till the end of Shrimpfest. They don't appreciate him. It's his glasses… they make him look like a lizard. Plus he's self-conscious. What about macaroni – let me finish – salad?
Turns out he ended up getting too friendly with the teddy bear. Hey, look at that – you're mean sober, too. No, Pop-pop does not get a treat, I just brought you a [bleep]ing pizza. Of course. The "Bob Loblaw Law Blog." Wow. You, sir, are a mouthful! Do you have any idea how often you say the word "afraid"? Well, I know I used it in the Jacuzzi.
Probably out there without a flipper, swimming around in a circle, freaking out his whole family. Family Love Michael. She's always got to wedge herself in the middle of us so that she can control everything. Yeah. Mom's awesome. Uncle Gob, was Aunt Lindsay ever pregnant? Yeah, sure, dozens of times. One of the guys told me to take my head out of my BOTTOM and get back to work…my BOTTOM! Hahahaha. The worst that could happen is that I could spill coffee all over this $3,000 suit. COME ON.
It just seems like there's still light coming in from under the door. I hear the jury's still out on science. Hey, maybe you could pop a tent outside with your cousin Maeby… it'd be a good chance to rub off on her. For the same reason you should believe a hundred dollar bill is no more than a hundred pennies! I didn't mean who… I meant… her? Ah coodle doodle doo, ah coodle doodle doo. Wow, this is the best free scrapbooking class I've ever taken! ps This one really cracks me up for some reason. Did you know that more frozen bananas are sold right here on this boardwalk than anywhere in the OC?
You might wanna lean away from that fire since you're soaked in alcohol. Turn this skiff around! A group of British builders operating outside the O.C. OH MY GOD, WE'RE HAVING A FIRE… sale. Oh, the burning! ♪♪ Amaaaaaaziiiing Graaaace ♪♪ George Michael may be suffering from what we in the soft-sciences call Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or the "OC Disorder." They frame my junk. Excuse me while I circumvent you. The old reach-around.