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Walk with me. | Spooky. |
Oh, I don't know, he might come home any minute. | Then I must flee! |
Oh, I don't know, he might come home any minute. | Where is he? Where is he? I smell his aftershave! |
I don't think we're doing this right. | Where is he? I know he's in here. |
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR HOMER / HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! | I don't have to make a wish, because I already have this wonderful family. I wish for infinity hamburgers. |
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR HOMER / HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! | Oh, I get it. These are those trick candles you can't blow out. |
No, Dad, they're the opposite. | "E-Z Blo..." |
No, Dad, they're the opposite. | This ends now! |
It's okay, Homie. You're probably just tired from not doing anything all day. | Uh-huh... uh-huh... |
You could buy a fireproof safe. | Or we could just resolve to be more careful with our open flames. |
Sir, we've been here six times this month. | Yeah, but uh-- One of those I dialed nine-one-one by mistake, but I was too embarrassed to admit it, so I set the house on fire. It feels good to tell the truth. No, I'm lying again, it feels bad. |
Okay, everyone gets to put one precious item in our fireproof safe. For me, it's the family photo album. | Aw. Our kids used to be so cute! |
Okay, everyone gets to put one precious item in our fireproof safe. For me, it's the family photo album. | Used to?! |
Okay, everyone gets to put one precious item in our fireproof safe. For me, it's the family photo album. | Oh, deal with it. |
It's so hard to choose just one item worthy of the safe. So I made this elaborate decision tree, which in itself is worthy of preservation. | Tick tock, sweetie. |
I picked my Malibu Stacy hybrid convertible. It runs on her old makeup and out-of-style shoes. | I'm going with the cologne I wore on our first date. |
Oh man. I thought I was strong enough to get through this again -- but I'm not. | Oh, Captain Janeway! Your mission ended too soon! Too soon... |
Bart looks so cute as a mighty oak in the school play! | Here I am on the space shuttle, orbiting Earth. |
And they pay big money for photos. | Marge! This isn't like you. |
Wheeee -- I'm sort of rich! I can rent anything I want! | That's quite an offer -- can I discuss it with my wife? |
Sure, why not? | Then I'll do it! |
Jerks like you oughtta be shot! | Krusty! How 'bout a nice shot of you with the boy you injured? |
Paparazzi?! Get lost, ya parasite! | How 'bout you, Gabbo? |
Ay-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi! | Okay, how 'bout an autograph for my kids? |
C'mon, baby -- barf for mama. | Okay boy, do something annoying. But leave yourself room to build. |
Hello, Homer. Have you lost weight? | Oh, like you care, Betty White. |
Tell me, how's Maggie? | Her name is Marge. |
I was talking about your baby. | Oh, uh... she's looking very snappy! |
Dad! It's Drederick Tatum. Try to get him to punch you. | No problem. Hey Drederick! |
Yes, how can I help you, my handsome friend? | Your hip hop CD was boastful and unnecessary! |
That's what I think of the fourth estate! | What are the first three? |
Nobility, clergy and commoners. Learn your French history! | Okay. |
What the hell did you do that for? | I wanted to remember my place in the book I was reading. |
It's eleven at night and I can't get to sleep! | Well, then you could come over here and help daddy pour chemicals. |
Okay, this is the place. | Did I attach the harness? |
No! Should I attach it for you? | If you don't mind! |
No! Should I attach it for you? | Thank you! |
No! Should I attach it for you? | Now to make a young woman's wedding day all about me! |
Do you, Rainier Luftwaffe Wolfcastle, take Maria Shriver-Kennedy-Quimby to be your lawful wedded-- | Up, up, and annoy! |
Yes, mother, barring some sort of pendulum effect. | First Amendment rules, privacy drools! |
Smile! | He's trying to make me look like a bad father. Maggie, take the wheel! |
Smile! | Ten and two, Einstein! |
Smile! | Can't I even have privacy here?! |
Sweetie, maybe it's time you retired from paparazzing. It's never fun to get a taste of your own medicine. | You're right -- I'm giving up photography... |
Sweetie, maybe it's time you retired from paparazzing. It's never fun to get a taste of your own medicine. | And my own medicine! |
Sweetie, maybe it's time you retired from paparazzing. It's never fun to get a taste of your own medicine. | So long, anti-clotting agent! |
Sweetie, maybe it's time you retired from paparazzing. It's never fun to get a taste of your own medicine. | Clot-clot-clot-clot-clot! |
And my sister once saw Burt Reynolds at an airport, and he wouldn't even co-sign her mortgage. | You guys are right -- I should get back in the game. But I threw away my camera. |
I was gonna use it to take secret photos in the ladies' turlet. But no dames ever come in this joint! | Thanks, Moe! |
We need to trade bras and panties! | How do you want your comeuppance: eight by ten or wallet size? |
What are you going to do with those photos? | Nothing. |
Moving on, our class trip to Italy is now spaghetti night at Papa John's, and your fifteen-hundred dollar deposits will not be refunded. | Ooh, Papa John's. |
Everyone can see you! Get inside! | Never! |
Just put on a towel! | Why don't I just put on a dress?! |
Homer, you've met my parents. | Not naked, I haven't. |
Anyway, someone's here to see you. | ...our duties as firemen. |
You already promised you would. | Do I have to? |
He quit! Being a ref is a thankless job... the parents hate ya... the only upside is the kids share their snack with you. | Did someone say "snack"? |
He quit! Being a ref is a thankless job... the parents hate ya... the only upside is the kids share their snack with you. | I'll be your ref! |
Dad, where'd you get that outfit? | I got fired from Foot Locker. |
Dad, where'd you get that outfit? | What'sa matter, buddy? The American flag not good enough for ya? |
That was my father! | I'm your father now. |
That was my father! | I'm open! I'm open! |
That was my father! | So... tired. |
That was my father! | Could someone bring me another barf cone? |
That was my father! | So... I thought it went real well. Until I swallowed the whistle. |
You don't even know the rules! This could be my new thing, and you're turning it into a joke! | Hilarious joke? |
Dad, I'm impressed! You've become a much better referee. | Thanks, honey. After what you said to me, I watched hours and hours of soccer. I almost saw a goal! But there were so many ads for Spanish cell phones... |
I'm a spectator addressing a player, answer me! | I said foul on twenty-three! |
Helen, please. Don't drop the "J" bomb. | Well I'm throwing you both out of the game! |
Ow! She tripped me. Ow! Owww! | Foul on the other girl. Lisa gets a penalty kick, and every other kid has to pay her a dollar! |
That is an outrage! Your daughter's been floppin' all day! | She has not! Your daughter's a dirty player! |
How about a lecture from me -- Ronaldo? | Ronaldo?! Winner of two World Cups and three FIFA player of the year awards? |
You heard Geraldo. What's it gonna be? | Yellow card! |
You can't give me a yellow card?! You're my father! | When I put on these shorts, I'm not your father anymore. And judging by how tight they are, I'm never gonna be anyone else's either. |
This is what I think of your yellow card! | Un-sportsman-like conduct. |
This is what I think of your yellow card! | That's a red card. You're out of the game! |
It was just a game. A game I used to enjoy before you mommed all over it. | Lisa, sweetie, I was just following the rules. |
Wanna go slam a few beers? | Wanna watch me? |
What'sa matter, Homer and Bart? | Lisa's mad at me and Marge is mad at him. |
Gee Moe, you give great advice. | Yeah. What have you done with the real Moe? |
Not interested. | It's a documentary... by the B.B.C... in cooperation with Canal Plus... |
Haw-haw. | Sweetie, are you here to forgive me? |
You were right to kick me out of that game. Soccer was making me insane, just as it did the continents of Europe and South America. | Those places are pretty terrible. |
Do you want to play a little? | I sure do. |
Homer, what took you so long? The game's almost over. | Oh, that's long gone, baby. Long gone. |
Homer, what took you so long? The game's almost over. | I got hung up at the snack stand -- watching those hot dogs rolling and turning, not a care in the world. |
Homer, what took you so long? The game's almost over. | No more lazy Saturdays for you. |
I hogged it! I hogged it! | My son caught the ball! This makes up for everything that's gone wrong in my life or ever will! |
Not at all! | I hate shopping. I'm bored, my feet hurt, I'm too big for the choo-choo train... hmm, where's the "husband chair?" |
Unless you're serving me a cold beer, you keep moving. | There must be another chair. |
Uh-uh. My wife's lookin' for a bathing suit that doesn't make her look "horsey". So, I'm gonna be here a while. | I guess I could just sit on a bed... |
Wow, this is soft... | Sure feels weird lying on top of the covers. |
Wow, this is soft... | Sure feels weird lying in bed with my pants on. |
What in the name of-- Hey, you! | How many?! |
Are you sleeping in the middle of my department store? | Well, who wouldn't with an incredible mattress like this? It works with my body's natural curves and supports my back-boobs. |
That's the best endorsement I've heard since Mickey Mantle for Maypo! I'll take five mattresses. | I don't work here. |
You do now, son! You're hired! | Woo hoo! |
All this fuss for a baseball game? Why don't thousands come to watch a teacher inspire a child? | But it did happen. Just yesterday, in Crazytown. |
I put on fresh makeup for this? | Knock it off! He's just a kid! |
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