Mom, Dad, this is Larry Kroger. The boy who molested me last month. We have to get married.
Every Halloween, the trees are filled with underwear.
I know everything your dirty little mind is thinking - it shows.
I’m not bad. I’m just drawn that way.
You’re a prostitute?
I’m the best piece of ass in three states.
Don’t flatter yourself. It wasn’t that great.
I’m one hell of a gorgeous chick!
Yes, you are. And you’re boring, and you’re totally ordinary, and you know it.
They’re chickens, you dolt. Apart from you, they’re the most stupid creatures on this planet. They don’t plot, they don’t scheme, and they are not organized.
Well, at least we can sell the video to “Chickens Gone Wild.”
And we wanna get loaded. And we wanna have a good time. And that’s what we are gonna do. We are gonna have a good time… We are gonna have a party.
But first … The Aristocrats!
Either you spend the rest of your life in an efficiency apartment with seven dissidents and one toilet, or you gather your aristocratic shit together and split!
Good to see you, Major. Looks like you’ve settled into a wonderful life. Hear you lost your job.
Well, that’s me. Don’t pass go, don’t collect $200.
You are an incredibly sensitive man, who inspires joy-joy feelings in all those around you.
Times are tough; still I treat you to a lovely evening, and I get smart-alek BACKTALK.
If I’d known we were gonna cast our feelings into words, I’d’ve memorized the Song of Solomon.
I think, Ellen, you mistake parading an emotion for feeling one.