You know those balls that they put on car antennas so you can find them in the parking lot? Those should be on every car!
Marge, I'm going to miss you so much. And it's not just the sex! It's also the food preparation.
When I look at the smiles on all the children's faces, I just know they're about to jab me with something.
America's health care system is second only to Japan, Canada, Sweden, Great Britain, well...all of Europe. But you can thank your lucky stars we don't live in Paraguay!
It's like something out of that "twilighty" show about that zone.
Marge, you being a cop makes you the man - which makes me the woman; and I have no interest in that, besides occasionally wearing the underwear, which (as we discussed) is strictly a comfort thing.
Whenever Marge turns on one of her "non-violent" programs, I take a walk. I go to a bar, I pound a few, then I stumble home in the mood for love...
It's not easy to juggle a pregnant wife and a troubled child, but somehow I managed to fit in eight hours of TV a day.
English? Who needs that? I'm never going to England!
I like my beer cold, my TV loud, and my homosexuals flaming.
Without our immigrants, who will kick our field goals, or train our white tigers?
Oh no! What have I done? I smashed open my little boy's piggy bank, and for what? A few measly cents, not even enough to buy one beer. Wait a minute, lemme count and make sure...not even close!
Beer - now THERE'S a temporary solution.
Or what? You'll release the dogs? Or the bees? Or the dogs with bees in their mouth and when they bark they shoot bees at you?
You're saying butt-kisser like it's a bad thing!
Well, let's just call them, uh, Mr. X and Mrs. Y. So anyway, Mr. X would say, 'Marge, if this doesn't get your motor running, my name isn't Homer J. Simpson.'
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