Oh, COME ON! I don't care if it takes from now till the end of Shrimpfest. I will be a bigger and hairier mole than the one on your inner left thigh! Don't leave your Uncle T-bag hanging. I see you've wasted no time in filling my seat hole. She's a girl, I need to teach her how to be a woman. Within her lies a queen. Let me out that queen. I cheated and I lied and I whored around. What, so the guy we are meeting with can't even grow his own hair? COME ON!
Wow. We're just blowing through nap time, aren't we. But anyhoo, can you believe that the only reason the club is going under is because it's in a terrifying neighborhood? A Colombian cartel that WON'T kidnap and kill you. And the soup of the day is bread. Yo quiero leche. Yo quiero leche de madre. Even though so many people in this office are begging for it. What is she doing at a beauty pageant? Is she running the lights or something? She's not 'that Mexican', Mom. She's my Mexican. And she's Colombian or something.
I was once called the worst audience participant Cirque du Soleil ever had. She wanted to look 48. I nearly airbrushed her into oblivion. Ended up checking "albino" on the form. Wine only turns to alcohol if you let it sit. I'm afraid I'm with Michael on this one. The guy runs a prison, he can have any piece of ass he wants. It's ok. You be with Yam. If you don't start pulling your weight around here its going to be shape up, or…ship up. Smack of ham. What is she doing at a beauty pageant? Is she running the lights or something? YOU'RE the Chiclet! Not me. Caw ca caw, caw ca caw, caw ca caw!
No, she's in it. She's a contestant. It's sorta like an inner beauty pageant. Ah, there it is. Talk you off what, Pop Pop? This was a big get for God.
Probably out there without a flipper, swimming around in a circle, freaking out his whole family. Yeah, I invited her. You said you wanted to spend time some with her. You said I was being an Ann hog.
Whenever she'd change clothes, she'd make me wait on the balcony until zip-up, and yet anything goes at bath time. He… she… what's the difference? Oh hear, hear. In the dark, it all looks the same. Early. [climbing under trampoline] This shall keep me safe from the hot Mexican sun. Friday night. Those are balls. It just seems like there's still light coming in from under the door. George Michael may be suffering from what we in the soft-sciences call Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or the "OC Disorder." The only thing more terrifying than the escaped lunatic's hook was his twisted call… Heyyyyy campers!
Annyong. Mister gay is bleeding! Mister gay! That's so you can videotape it when they put you in a naked pyramid and point to your Charlie Browns. And although the intervention didn't work, it turned into one of the Bluth family's better parties. But anyhoo, can you believe that the only reason the club is going under is because it's in a terrifying neighborhood? Let me take off my assistant's skirt and put on my Barbra-Streisand-in-The-Prince-of-Tides ass-masking therapist pantsuit. Speaking of settling, How's Ann? Well, yeah you've gotta lock that down.
How do you know Steve Holt? Are you in AA? It's so watery. And yet there's a smack of ham to it. Are all the guys in here… you know? George Sr.: No, not all of them. Barry: Yeah. It's never the ones you hope. Wow, this is the best free scrapbooking class I've ever taken! ps This one really cracks me up for some reason.
The worst that could happen is that I could spill coffee all over this $3,000 suit. COME ON. I run a pretty tight ship around here. With a pool table.
I spent so much time making sweet love on my wife that it's hard to hear anything over the clatter of her breasts. If this were a Lifetime Moment of Truth movie, this would be our act break. But it wasn't. Although George Michael had only got to second base, he'd gone in head first, like Pete Rose. This show was cancelled. I mean, COME ON.