You stay on top of her, Buddy. Don't be afraid to ride her. Hard. Taste the happy, Michael! Taste it! Smack of ham. What is she doing at a beauty pageant? Is she running the lights or something? Taste the happy, Michael! Taste it!

Yeah, well, have you seen the new Mustang? You could hump that hood. I made a huge tiny mistake. I don't criticize you! And if you're worried about criticism, sometimes a diet is the best defense. Well, I spent so much time making sweet love on my wife that it's hard to hear anything over the clatter of her breasts. I'll have a vodka rocks. (Mom, it's breakfast time.) And a piece of toast. Sweet old thing. Only two of those words describe Mom, so I know you're lying to me. I'm a complete failure. I can't even fake the death of a stripper.

I guess you can say I'm buy-curious. These are my awards, Mother. From Army. The seal is for marksmanship, and the gorilla is for sand racing. Let me give that oatmeal some brown sugar. Everybody dance NOW.

Well excuse me for liking the way they frame my junk! You stay on top of her Buddy. Don't be afraid to ride her. Hard. Speaking of settling, How's Ann? You might wanna lean away from that fire since you're soaked in alcohol. Stop it, stop it. This objectification of women has to stop. It's just Mom and whores. Taste the happy, Michael! Taste it! And with deep, deep concentration and, and great focus, he's often able to achieve an erect–

♪♪ And the thought of rubbin' you is getting so exciting. Sky rockets in flight! Afternoon delight! ♪♪ No. I was ashamed to be _seen_ with you. I like being with you. Speaking of settling, How's Ann? She keeps saying that God is going to show me a sign. The… something of my ways. Wisdom? I don't want no part of yo tight-ass country-club, ya freak bitch! What a fun, sexy time for you. He's a regular Freddie Wilson, that one.

Let me take off my assistant's skirt and put on my Barbra-Streisand-in-The-Prince-of-Tides ass-masking therapist pantsuit. I hate the Wetlands. They're stupid and wet, and there are bugs everywhere, and I think I maced a crane. I've always been deeply passionate about nature. Perhaps you remember Neuterfest? M: I'll never forget your wedding. Why are you squeezing me with your body? It's a hug, Michael. I'm hugging you. It's as Ann as the nose on Plain's face. No, I was ashamed to be SEEN with you. I like being with you. YOU'RE the Chiclet! Not me. Caw ca caw, caw ca caw, caw ca caw! O-kay, who'd like a banger in the mouth?

The CIA should've just Googled for his hideout, evidently. This was a big get for God. Sure, let the little fruit do it. HUZZAH! But anyhoo, can you believe that the only reason the club is going under is because it's in a terrifying neighborhood?

A trick is something a whore does for money…or candy. … or cocaine. You can always tell a Milford man. Don't leave your Uncle T-bag hanging. 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. Those are balls.

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. We need a name. Maybe "Operation Hot Mother." No, let's try to top that. (They never did.) It feels good to be back in a queen! You want your belt to buckle, not your chair. Everything they do is so dramatic and flamboyant. It just makes me want to set myself on fire. - Lucille Bluth. O-kay, who'd like a banger in the mouth? It feels good to be back in a queen!

I'm a scholar. I enjoy scholarly pursuits. Suddenly playing with yourself is a scholarly pursuit? Oh, I can just taste those meaty leading man parts in my mouth. With spicy club sauce. First I blow him, then I poke him.