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Dad, I really need to rest my back. | Come on... fit you... |
Dad, I really need to rest my back. | Yeah, that's one fine-looking barbecue pit... Why doesn't mine look like that?! |
Dad, I really need to rest my back. | Why?! Why must life be so hard? Why must I fail in every attempt at masonry? |
Yeah, hold on there, Santa Claus. That box is for toys only. | Well, of course. Any kid would love to have this, uh... activity center. It teaches them while they learn. |
Yeah, nice try, Saint Nick. Now hit the road, Kris Kringle. | But, but... |
Homie, someone's at the door. They want to talk to you about some sort of car accident. | Take the kids out back. |
Homie, someone's at the door. They want to talk to you about some sort of car accident. | I'll handle this. |
Mr. Simpson? I believe something of yours struck my car yesterday. | Oh yeah? Prove it. |
That's your license plate, isn't it? | Uh... All right! Just go ahead and sue me. Everybody else does! The average settlement is $68,000. |
I'm not here to sue you. My name is Astrid Weller. I own an art gallery and I'd love to display your piece. | You mean this hunka junk? This isn't art. Just a barbecue that pushed me over the edge. Didn't you? Didn't you?! You stupid so... |
Art isn't just pretty pictures. It's an expression of raw human emotion. In your case, rage. | Oh, I got that, lady. |
Is everything okay? I got worried when I didn't hear any shots. | This lady says I'm an artist. |
Your husband's work is what we call "Outsider Art." It could be by a mental patient or a hillbilly or a chimpanzee. | In high school I was voted "Most Likely to be a Mental Patient, Hillbilly, or Chimpanzee!" |
Well, you should be very excited, because outsider art couldn't be hotter. | So you'd better catch the fever. Catch it... |
Dad, chew with your mouth closed. You're losing your mystique. | Lisa, all great artists love free food. Check out Jasper Johns. |
Congratulations, Homer -- you're now a professional artist! | Woo hoo! Look, Marge, my first sale! In your face, Jasper Johns! |
Homie, I'm really happy you sold your sculpture -- but don't you think it may have been a fluke? | Hey, I've always had an interest in art, dating back to my schoolgirl days when I painted portrait after portrait of Ringo Starr. |
That's my life you're describing. | I think I remember my own life, Marge. |
That's my life you're describing. | Astrid said the key to my art is anger. But you know me, I'm Mister Mellow. |
That's my life you're describing. | So I'm giving you kids permission to get me mad. C'mon, gimme what you got. |
Well, if it'll help - Um, Mom found out her engagement ring is made of rock candy. | Good work, honey. Keep it comin'. |
I must get back to my hotel and practice my affectations for tomorrow. Bon soir. | What do we owe you, Moe? |
Nothin', nothin'. Just gimme a priceless sketch with a certificate of authenticity. | All right. |
Wonderful news, Homer. | Is it about pies? |
Uh, no. We're going to hold a show devoted entirely to you. | Wow. It's like Marge's dream come true... for me! Isn't that great, Marge?! For me! |
I'm happy for you. Now g'night. | Good night. |
I'm happy for you. Now g'night. | You're upset about something. Is this about that trip Barney and I took to Machu Picchu? |
No, Homer, being an artist was my dream. But now, without even trying, you've accomplished more in a week than I have in my whole life. | Aw, honey, I've always liked your art. Your paintings look like the things they look like. |
That's sweet, but, well, how would you like it if I, I don't know, entered a belching contest? | Frankly, I'd be a little turned on. |
You don't understand. | Marge, I've screwed up everything I've ever done. I mean, look at Bart. But I finally found something where people worship me for screwing up. And that feels pretty good. |
Well, I guess nothing else matters as long as you're happy. | Now you're making sense. Good night. |
Homer is the most dangerous artist on the Springfield scene. Now, let's see what surprises he has for us tonight. | I give you "Botched Hibachi." The tricycle is on loan from the Maggie Simpson collection. |
Homer is the most dangerous artist on the Springfield scene. Now, let's see what surprises he has for us tonight. | This piece I call "Failed Shelving Unit with Stupid Stuck Chainsaw and Applesauce." |
Homer is the most dangerous artist on the Springfield scene. Now, let's see what surprises he has for us tonight. | And finally, my thing de resistance, "Attempted Birdhouse I." |
Homer is the most dangerous artist on the Springfield scene. Now, let's see what surprises he has for us tonight. | Shall we start the bidding at, say, ten thousand dollars? |
Homer is the most dangerous artist on the Springfield scene. Now, let's see what surprises he has for us tonight. | All right, how about a million? |
I'll give you two bucks for the bird, if it's still alive. | What's going on here? You weirdos love this stuff. |
Come on, Gunter, Kyoto. If we hurry we can still catch the heroin craze. | Wait! Come back! I'm a God to you! Worship me -- or fear my wrath! Please fear my wrath, please... Call me. |
Homer, I know you worked hard, but all of your... things were kind of the same. | Hey, Ray J. Johnson never changed his act and he's more popular now than he's ever been. |
Who? | You can call him Ray / Or you can call him J. / Or you can call him Ray J. / But you doesn't have to call him... |
It's so exciting to do something cultural together. | Matt Groening? What's he doing in a museum? He can barely draw. |
It's so exciting to do something cultural together. | Ow! Oh no, I'm being erased! |
A Claes Oldenburg. He's a European who defied convention and embraced American popular culture. | He must be a hundred feet tall. |
Now this is a Joseph Turner. In an era when everyone else painted portraits, he broke away by painting the Venetian Canals. | It's glorious! The streets are paved with water. You could ride a walrus to work! |
Any ideas yet? | No, these guys are geniuses. I could never think of something like soup or a pencil. |
Any ideas yet? | I'm just gonna rest for a minute. |
Any ideas yet? | What the?! Who the?! Hey! |
Hasta la vista, baby. | Eww... |
Soup's on, fat boy! | Ow! Hey! No! No! Ow! N-No! Ow! |
Soup's on, fat boy! | No, no, Andy, no! |
Homer... Homer... | Marge! Why does Art hate me? I never did anything to Art. |
Homer... Homer... | Oh, let's get out of here. |
Well, Dad, if the museum didn't inspire you, maybe you should do something really radical, like Christo. | Is he that jerk that revealed the magicians' secrets? |
No, Christo is a conceptual artist who does huge outdoor projects. He once wrapped the Reichstag in plastic. | Not the Reichstag! |
Oh, yes, and he also set up hundreds of yellow umbrellas along the California highway... | Why'd he do that? |
To make the world a more magical place, I guess. Although they did blow over and kill some people. | Killer umbrellas? Of course. Exquisite. |
No, Dad, no. My point is you have to do something big and daring. | Big? Daring? Lisa, that's it! I've got an idea for a wonderful art project that'll make everyone love me again. Step one: steal all the doormats in town. |
See you in hell, "God Bless This House." | So long, The Simpsons! |
It wasn't easy, but I got all the grizzlies. | Great. I'll do the pony while you do the lions. |
It wasn't easy, but I got all the grizzlies. | Make sure you strap 'em on real tight. |
Are you sure this is art, not vandalism? | That's for the courts to decide, son. |
Oh, that can't be good. | People of Springfield, behold my latest work! |
Homer, what have you done? | It's conceptual art -- the Grand Canals of Springfield. Just like Venice without the black plague. What do you think? |
Well, Homer, I have to admit, you created something people really love. You truly are an artist. | No, I'm just a nut who couldn't build a barbecue. You'll always be the artist in the family. |
Ohh... | Is that our house? |
Yep. | And is that us on the roof? |
That's us. | Are we kissing? |
Yeah, go for the gold, Dad! | Shut up, shut up, shut up! |
Yeah, go for the gold, Dad! | Well, you said I couldn't do it, but here it is! Meet Abby the Olympic Tabby. |
You papier mache'd my cat?! | Just for the prototype, honey. |
You papier mache'd my cat?! | Knowing you always hate my first idea, I prepared a backup. How about a big Olympic hello for Springy, the Springfield Spring! |
Good work, Dad. | It's fun for the whole family. And the ends are razor sharp to protect our nation and its interests. |
Ow!! | God bless America! |
Oh! / Springs! | They picked Springy! In your face, Patty and Selma! |
"Coming! Hey, hey, hey! Children, children, future, future..." | I've never wanted a beer worse in my life. |
"Coming! Hey, hey, hey! Children, children, future, future..." | I love you, honey. |
Are you talking to me or the beer? | To you, my bubbly, long-necked, beechwood-aged lover. |
Poland, eh? Ha. Too easy. How you doin', Germany? Here's my impression of an East German woman, "Kiss me or I'll crush you." | He says what we're all thinking. |
That place sucks! The nurses don't let Grampa do anything. They practically chew his food for him. | Lucky stiff. I'm working my ass off here. Good steak, honey. |
Sounds good to me! | I'llgetit. |
Delivery for Homer Simpson. | Woo hoo! My springs! They finally came! |
But we lost the Olympics to Shelbyville. | Yeah, but I should have no problem selling a thousand springs. |
To who? | Idiots! Ooh, these are fun! |
Ow! My eye! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! | Now if you want to be the life of the party like Lenny here, just place your order for this hilarious novelty item. |
Homer, get outta here. | Boy, Moe, you sure look angry. Here, have some nuts. |
Nothing. | Don't answer yet. Watch how easy it is to flip hamburgers with the help of God's greatest creation, the spring. |
Nothing. | Now, watch this... |
Nothing. | Ow! Ohhh... |
Are you okay? | Some second degree burns, but some first class burgers. |
I want you to get rid of these springs. | But you haven't seen the Baby of Tomorrow! Ta-daa! |
I want you to get rid of these springs. | Now if I drop her, no more tears. |
Give me my baby! | "D" it up, Marge. I'm goin' to the hole. |
I want these springs out of our house today. | "You flush one down / It swirls around / Nine hundred and ninety-nine springs to flush down..." |
You're not flushing those springs down our toilet, are you? | Of course not! "Nine hundred and ninety-six springs to flush down / Nine hundred and ninety-six spriiings..." |
What the heck's going on? | A hundred and thirty-five springs to flush down. A hundred and thirty-five springs... |
I don't know how you can all just lay around the house on a nice day like this. When was the last time we went for a good old-fashioned family walk? | Oh, we stopped those when the kids said I was too fat to carry. |
Get a horse! | Could we, Marge? Could we get a horse? |
We're walking, Homer. | There are some dogs. We could all ride dogs. |
Oh, look! There's the store where I buy my yarn. But you don't want to buy your buttons there. | Pew, well, I dodged a bullet. |
Where'd you get that champagne? | Clown. |
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