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Dad, you know some shyster's gonna bilk you out of your money. It may as well be your brother. | All right, Herb, I'll lend you the two thousand bucks. But you have to forgive me and treat me like a brother. |
Nope. | Okay, then just give me the drinking bird. |
What do you think, Homer? | Herb, this is the stupidest thing I've ever seen. I can't believe we blew two thousand bucks on it, when right now rollers could be kneading my buttocks. |
Homer, could you stop thinking about your ass! | I try, but I can't. |
You see! It tells you exactly what's on the baby's mind. | Never mind. |
Well, Homer, now what do you think? | I dunno, Herb. People are afraid of new things. You should have taken an existing product and put a clock in it or something. |
I have soiled myself. How embarrassing. | I gave Herb all the money I had in the world... and still he treats me like something he dug out of his ear. |
Don't worry, he can't stay mad at you forever. He is your brother. | Well, when is he gonna act like it? |
Homer, walk me to my car. | What do I get? What do I get? It's not another punch in the face is it? Because if it is, I don't want it. |
This is what you get, Homer. I forgive you. You can call me brother and I can do the same. | That's it? |
That's it. | I see your point, brother. |
Gimme a hug, brother. | All right... but I never really hugged a man before. |
Oh, I dreamt it was the last day of school. | Well it is. |
Homie, you do remember your promise to the children? | Sure do. When you're eighteen, you're out the door. |
Yeah. Well, just remember when you see my report card they got this whole new grading system this year. It now goes: D,B,A,C. | Now listen, boy. We have an understanding and you'd better keep your end of it. I don't think I'd be any kind of a father if you got D's and I let you go to Kamp Krusty. |
But Dad... | Son, if you really want something in this life you have to work for it. Now quiet, they're about to announce the lottery numbers. |
8... | Woo-hoo! |
Well, here goes nothin'. | Stupid roller-skate. |
Well, dad, here's my report card. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. | A+? You don't think much of me, do you boy? |
No, sir. | You know a D turns into a B so easily. You just got greedy. |
So I won't get to go to camp? | Now, Bart. We made this deal because I thought it would help you get good grades. And you didn't. But why should you pay for my mistake? |
You mean I can go? | Yeah. I didn't want you hangin' around all summer anyway. |
Oh, Dad. You're the best father a boy could ever have! | Thanks son. Now, you've got little hands. Can you reach under that mower and pull out that skate? |
Ah sure, there'll be a couple of uptight counselors who won't dig the Bart philosophy, but I feel the human body is a thing of beauty. | Marge, am I crazy, or is my back getting hairier? |
Hey, hands off my pickle. | I don't see your name on it, boy. |
No, but... | Oh yeah? |
No, but... | Check... mate. |
Good-bye my special little guy. Lisa, watch out for poison ivy. Remember, "Leaves of 3, let it be. | "Leaves of 4, eat some more." |
You can have the shower to yourself, Homie. I'm finished. | Oh no you're not. |
Ohhh... | He-he-he. |
Oh, that's wonderful. | And look. New hair! |
Oh, that's wonderful. | I'm this close to having a comb-over! |
Dear kids, I hope this letter finds you well. We are doing great. Your father is in the best shape he's been since...well, ever. | Size... right... agility! |
Oh... Homer, it's getting late, we'll miss the fireworks. | Marge, we've got all the fireworks we need right here. |
I haven't been in a play since high school, and I thought it would be a good chance to meet some other adults. | Sounds interesting. |
You know, I spend all day alone with Maggie... and sometimes it's like I don't even exist. | Sounds interesting. |
It's time to name our five finalists, starting with... Miss Montana! | A beaut from Butte. |
Miss South Carolina! | Nothin' could be finah. |
Miss Delaware! | She, uh... Good for her. |
La-la-la-la-la-la-la. | Marge keep it down in there. |
Tonight, my reign as Miss American Girl comes to an end. And I'd like to apologize one last time for my unfortunate remarks at the United Nations. | Maggie! Cut that racket! |
Tonight, my reign as Miss American Girl comes to an end. And I'd like to apologize one last time for my unfortunate remarks at the United Nations. | And where exactly are you going? |
I'm auditioning for a play. | Well, this is the first I've heard about it. |
I told you several times. It's a musical version of "A Streetcar Named..." | Excuse me, Marge. I think that if you told me I would remember! I mean I'm not an idiot! |
Well... I thought I told you.. | Kids, back me up. |
Sorry. | Match point, Homer. |
I'm sorry, Honey. | That's okay. We're none of us perfect. |
I don't think so. | Bart, don't ask stupid questions. Is there any frontal nudity? |
Gutterball. | You see, Marge, while you're off in your little world, you forgot that other people have problems too. |
I'm sorry, Llewellyn. I just... I just don't see why Blanche should shove a broken bottle in Stanley's face. Couldn't she just take his abuse with gentle, good humor? | Marge, your ride's here. |
Marge! Marge! I'm asking for white hot rage and you're giving me a hissy fit! | Marge, can I get some change for the candy machine? |
Oh here! | Hey, there's quarters in here! |
Marge, every second you spend with this man, he is crushing your fragile spirit. You can't let that happen. | Woo-hoo! Come to papa! Marge, I'll be out in the car. |
All I want is one embrace. | Marge, move it or lose it! |
Heah you ah, Homah. | Wha th... Why are you talking like that? |
Can I slog off school tomorrow? Got a pain in me gulliver. | I'm livin' in a cuckoo clock. |
See you later, kids. Ah've got to go rehearse with Ned. | But Marge, what about dessert? |
For God's sake, you can pull the lid off your own can of pudding! | Fine. I will! |
For God's sake, you can pull the lid off your own can of pudding! | Oh no! My pudding is trapped forever. So I can open my own can of pudding, can I? Shows what you know, Marge! |
Why? Are you going? | Well I gotta, don't I? |
I'm sure you won't enjoy it. There's nothing about bowling in the play... Oh wait, there is. | Probably not much of it. |
Why can't you be a little more supportive? | Because I don't care, okay? I can't fake an interest in this, and I'm an expert at faking an interest in your kooky projects. |
What kooky projects? | You know, the painting class, the First Aid course, that whole Lamaze thing. |
Why didn't you tell me you felt this way? | You know I would never do anything to hurt your feelings. Good night. |
If I break, buy a new one | Maggie, time to go to the... |
If I break, buy a new one | Babies. |
It's mom! | Huh? |
Almost everybody. | Kids, wait in the car. I want to talk to your mother about this play thing. |
Lookin' for a spot of fun with the missus, eh guv'nor? | Shut up boy. |
Lookin' for a spot of fun with the missus, eh guv'nor? | Marge, you were terrific. |
Oh, come on, Homer. By the end, you were so bored you could barely keep your selfish head up. | I wasn't bored. I was sad. It really got to me how that lady -- Uh... uh... you know which one I mean. You played her. |
Blanche. | Yeah. How Blanche was sad and how that guy Stanley -- should have been nice to her. |
Really? | Yeah, like when I pick my teeth with the mail and stuff... |
Get up, Homer. It's time for church. | Don' wanna go. |
It's church. You have to go. | Too cold out! |
I'm tired of having this argument every Sunday. Get dressed. | Oh, stupid itchy church pants... |
I'm tired of having this argument every Sunday. Get dressed. | One size fits all, my butt! |
Come on. We're going to be late. | Forget it. I'm not going. |
It's eleven KBBL degrees below zero. I hope you're someplace warm. | You bet your sweet... ass! |
Who wears short shorts? | I wear short shorts! |
Who wears short shorts? | The perfect chance to make my patented, space age, out-of-this-world Moon Waffles. |
Who wears short shorts? | Let's see here... caramels, waffle batter...liquid smoke... |
Who wears short shorts? | Oooh, waffle run off. |
Who wears short shorts? | Mmm, fattening. |
Of course, Johnny's next record was a spoken-word album of his right-wing political views, that kinda killed his career. If you can tell me the name of that album, call our contest line - now! | I know that! |
Of course, Johnny's next record was a spoken-word album of his right-wing political views, that kinda killed his career. If you can tell me the name of that album, call our contest line - now! | Hello, this is Homer Simpson. |
Homer, can you name that title? | "This Things I Believe". |
Uh... can we accept that? | Woo-hoo! |
You heard the lady - grab her spine and get cracking. | Heh-heh-heh... Moe is their leader. |
Let's define our terms, gentleman. Are we talking about redistricting, or are we talking about reapportionment? Because the two are by no means the same. | Oh, well... can't win 'em all. |
We interrupt this public affairs program to bring you a football game. | Yesss! |
Oh, doctor. A 98-yard triple reverse ties the score at 63-63! We have seen nothing but razzle-dazzle here today. Three visits from Morganna The Kissing Bandit... and the astonishing return of Jim Brown... | Woo-hoo! |
Oh, doctor. A 98-yard triple reverse ties the score at 63-63! We have seen nothing but razzle-dazzle here today. Three visits from Morganna The Kissing Bandit... and the astonishing return of Jim Brown... | Is that what I think it is? |
Mmm, hmm. | I... found... a penny! |
Mmm, hmm. | Could this be the best day of my life? |
Mmm, hmm. | Looks like we have a new champion. |
Mmm, hmm. | Ah, my beloved family. How was church? |
That's a terrible thing to say. Kids, your father doesn't really mean that. | Like fun I don't. Marge, I'm never going to church again. |
Homer! Are you actually giving up your faith? | No! No, no, no, no, no, no. Well, yes. |
I can't believe you're giving up church, Homer. | Hey, what's the big deal about going to some building every Sunday? I mean, isn't God everywhere? |
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