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

$pringfield - Or how I learned to stop worrying and love legalized gambling.

The News On Parade Corporation presents "News On Parade Corporation
News".

So watch out, Utica: Springfield is a City On the...Grow!

Homer: Hey! There's something you don't see in a toilet everyday!

The sum of the square roots of any two sides of an isosceles triangle is equal to the square root of the remaining side.
Man: That's a right triangle, you idiot!
Homer: D'oh!


Burns: Thank you so much for visiting our plant, Dr. Kissinger.
Henry: It was fun.
Smithers: We'll let you know if your glasses turn up.
Henry: Er, yes, well, I'm sure I left them in the car.
No one must know I dropped them in the toilet; not I, the man who drafted the Paris Peace Accord.

Kent: Scott, things aren't as happy as they used to be down here at the unemployment office. Joblessness is no longer just for philosophy majors. Useful people are starting to feel the pinch.
Barney: I haven't been able to find a job in six years.
Kent: Hmph. And what training do you have?
Barney: Five years of modern dance, six years of tap.


Kent: The economic slump began last spring when the government closed Fort Springfield, devastating the city's liquor and prostitution industries.

Lovejoy: Once something has been approved by the government, it's no longer immoral.
Audience: Yay!
Burns: By building a casino, I could tighten my stranglehold on this dismal town!
Audience: Yay!


Workman: Why you. Oh! Master Burns. I mean, carry on! Ah! Oh! Ow! Oh, me leg's gone gimpy. Who will provide for me little ones?
"What was I laughing at now?...Oh yes, that crippled Irishman!"

Brit: Gentlemen, I give you Brittania! Gambling with all the glitz and glamour of the British Isles. Best of all, the waitresses and showgirls are all real Brits; fresh from the streets of Sussex, they are.
Woman: Freshen your drink, Guv'ner?


Marge: In honor of legalized gambling, why not go as the state of Nevada?
Lisa: No: Nevada makes my butt look big.

Bart: By the way, your martinis suck!
Kid: Oh yeah? What are you going to do? Start your own casino in your treehouse and get all your little friends to come? I'd like to see that. Ah ha ha ha...
Bart: Hi, yeah, welcome. Have a lucky day. Mm hmm.
Kid: Well, he certainly showed me.


Marge: Legalized gambling is a bad idea. You can build a casino over my dead body. Blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah blah.

Tonight: Milhouse. Next week: An Evening with Jimbo.

Krusty: Hey, that spot on Gorbachev's head -- herpes, trust me! Anybody here have herpes? Huh? Huh?

Germs: Freemasons run the country!

Smithers: Excuse me, ma'am: don't you think you've gambled enough?
Marge: No!
Smithers: OK. We're required by law to ask every 75 hours. Get her another free drink.

Bart: Pipe down, sister. I gotta book a new act for tonight. Turns out that Liza Minnelli impersonator was really Liza Minnelli.

Lisa: There's nothing to eat for breakfast.
Homer: You gotta improvise, Lisa: cloves, Tom Collins mix, frozen pie crust --
Lisa: Maybe mom just doesn't realize we missed her. We could go down to the casino and let her know...
Homer: Oh, come on, Lisa, there's no reason to...let's go see Mom.

Burns: Smithers, I've designed a new plane. I call it the "Spruce Moose", and it will carry two hundred passengers from New York's Idyllwild Airport to the Belgian Congo in seventeen minutes!
Smithers: That's quite a nice model, sir.
Burns: Model?


Homer: Aah! Bogeyman! You nail the windows shut, I'll get the gun!

Homer: Bart, I don't want to alarm you, but there may be a bogeyman or bogeymen in the house!

Smithers: I'm afraid Robert Goulet hasn't arrived yet, sir.
Burns: Hmm. Very well; begin the thawing of Jim Nabors.

Goulet: Are you sure this is the casino? I think I should call my manager.
Nelson: Your manager says for you to shut up!
Goulet: Vera said that? Hmph.


Homer: Hello, Florida!
Lisa: I'm not a state, I'm a monster!
Homer: No, Lisa. The only monster here is the gambling monster that has enslaved your mother! I call him Gamblor, and it's time to snatch your mother from his neon claws!

Burns: Aw, my beloved plant. How I miss her. Bah! To hell with this. Get my razors! Draw a bath! Get these kleenex boxes off my feet.
Smithers: Certainly, sir. And, uh, the jars of urine?
Burns: Oh, we'll hang onto those. Now, to the plant! We'll take the Spruce Moose. Hop in!
Smithers: But, sir...
Burns: I said, hop in.


Homer: Yer gotta redda kid forrad yarrar!
Marge: Homer, what is it? Slow down!
Homer: J'yer gedda ferda redderarrar.
Marge: Think before you say each word.
Homer: You broke a promise to your child.
Marge: What?
Homer: You promised Lisa to help her with her costume. You made her cry. Then I cried. Then Maggie laughed -- she's such a little trooper.

Homer: No, no, that's too expensive. Just don't do it any more.

Robert Goulet: Oh, I'm sorry, kid...

Ralph: I'm Idaho!
Skinner: Yes, of course you are.


Homer: Well, that's nothing, because you have a gambling problem! And remember when I let that escaped lunatic in the house 'cause he was dressed like Santa Claus?
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