Friday night. Whenever she'd change clothes, she'd make me wait on the balcony until zip-up, and yet anything goes at bath time. Oh Gob, you could charm the black off a telegram boy. No borders, no limits… go ahead, touch the Cornballer… you know best? Someone order 140 pounds of upper body strength? One of the guys told me to take my head out of my BOTTOM and get back to work…my BOTTOM! No, I was ashamed to be SEEN with you. I like being WITH you.

It's sort of like going from prime rib to… I don't know… weird brother of prime rib. I prematurely shot my wad on what was supposed to be a dry run, so now I'm afraid I have something of a mess on my hands. It was the first taste of alcohol Buster had since he was nursing. If you're suggesting I play favorites, you're wrong. I love all of my children equally. I don't care for Gob. Coo coo ca chaw. Coo coo ca chaw. I was set up. By the Brits. A group of British builders operating outside the O.C.

Let's see some bananas and nuts! If I make this comeback, I'll buy you a hundred George Michaels that you can teach to drive! I will pack your sweet pink mouth with so much ice cream you'll be the envy of every Jerry and Jane on the block! You can control your bladder when you're dead! Heyyyy uncle father Oscar. A million [bleep]ing diamonds!

Coo coo ca chaw. Coo coo ca chaw. Speaking of settling, how's Ann? 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. George Michael may be suffering from what we in the soft-sciences call Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or the "OC Disorder." Pound is tic-tac-toe, right? No, she's in it. She's a contestant. It's sorta like an inner beauty pageant. Ah, there it is.

She's not that Mexican, Mom. She's my Mexican. And she's Columbian or something. Sorry, some of my students are arguing the significance of the shankbone on the seder plate. But we do not - NOT wag our genitals at one another to make a point. I'm not interested in you that way. Tobias: What way? Michael: Pick one. Interfere? I ought to pull down your pants and spank your ass raw. Michael: I'm sorry, have we met? NO TOUCHING! I've been in the film business for a while but I just can't seem to get one in the can. Don't leave your Uncle T-bag hanging.

What's next, Michael? Are you going to make dancing illegal? Is this the tiny town from Footloose? Come on, this is a Bluth family celebration. It's no place for children. You need to do more with Rita. Believe me, I'd like to. Chickens don't clap! A sea of waiters and no one will take a drink order. I'll sacrifice anything for my children. Operation Hot Mother. I don't want no part of yo tight-ass country-club, ya freak bitch!

I don't care if it takes from now till the end of Shrimpfest. Let me give that oatmeal some brown sugar. Chickens don't clap! The CIA should've just Googled for his hideout, evidently. Chickens don't clap!

Uncle Gob, was Aunt Lindsay ever pregnant? Yeah, sure, dozens of times. Oh, yeah, the guy in the the $4,000 suit is holding the elevator for a guy who doesn't make that in three months. Come on! A trick is something a whore does for money… or cocaine. It's Sunday, but screw it — juice box time. I am getting rid of this thing. It has caused me nothing but pride and self-respect. Happy Franklin Friday. Probably out there without a flipper, swimming around in a circle, freaking out his whole family. Stop it, stop it. This objectification of women has to stop. It's just Mom and whores.

Yeah, I invited her. You said you wanted to spend time some with her. You said I was being an Ann hog. Buster's in what we like to call a light to no coma. In layman's terms, it might be considered a very heavy nap.