Busty St.Clair (i_get_stabby) wrote in i_kill_you_scum,
Busty St.Clair

Oooh! Look at him go!

Bart: We said, "Meh!"
Lisa: M-e-h, meh.

Homer: Check it out -- I built myself a healthy apple.
Lisa: But you made it out of ham cubes.
Home: Yup, a shiny new apple.

Homer: Come on, why won't you go out with Bart?
Sherri: He's a smelly, ugly dork.
Homer: Please, "ugly" is such a smelly word. Who would you rather go out with?
Sherri: Tommy.
Homer: Well, duh! He's breathtaking. But Bart has inner beauty, like you'd find in a rodent. And face it, you're no prize, either. You wear braces, you dress like a kid, and you're not getting any younger.
Edna: He's right. Grab something, and don't let go.

Homer: And I gave that man directions, even though I didn't know the way. 'Cause that's the kind of guy I am this week.

Homer: What a crazy room. There's no Albuquerque Isotopes. It's the Springfield [realizes] Oh.
Duff: No, no. There's no "oh."
Homer: You're moving the team to Albuquerque, aren't you?
Duff: No, no, we would never abandon our loyal Springfield fans. By the way, all this barging into rooms marked "Private" must have made you thirsty. Would you like a beer?
Homer: Well, okay, but you can't silence Homer Simpson. I'm a friend of the downtrodden. And I'm not going to forget what I saw here today.
Duff: Of course not. Duffman, could you bring in two bottles of smooth, untainted Duff?
Duffman: Oh, yeah.

Homer: I don't mind being called a liar when I'm lying, or about to lie, or just finished lying. *But not when I'm telling the truth!*

Milhouse: What a great ball game. Thanks, Weekend Dad.
Kirk: Stop calling me that.

Marge: There's still more meatloaf.
Bart: Oh, it's impossible.
Marge: ome on, come on, we all have to pitch in and eat your father's share.
Lisa: Why don't you just cook less?
Marge: I don't do things that way, Lisa.

Homer: I'm dancing away my hunger pangs, Moving my feet so my stomach won't hurt. I'm kind of like Jesus, But not in a sacrilegious way.

Duffman: Duffman is thrusting in the direction of the problem.
Duff: People seem to be drawn to that kook. Maybe we can exploit it.
Duffman: He's too dangerous, sir. He knows about Albuquerque. Duffman is a cautious cat.
Duff: No, listen. Fans love wackos. Remember that busty woman who ran out on the field and farted at the ballplayers? I think we found our newest attraction.
Duffman: Duffman has a bad feeling about this.
Duff: Can it, Sid.
Duffman: Why don't you can it, Howard?

Marge: It's been a whole week. Why are you letting my husband die? What does it have to do with baseball?
Exec 1: Death is a part of baseball.
Exec 2: Oh, yeah, the main part.

Homer: Who are you?
Chavez: The spirit of Cesar Chavez.
Homer: Why do you look like Caesar Romero?
Chavez: Because you don't know what Cesar Chavez looks like.
Homer: Why are you here?
Chavez: To tell you not to give up.
Homer: Oh, but I wanna.
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