Beware, rabbits. I spy with my transplanted eyes.
Of course he’s a spy. You just saw him go through spy school!
Look Who’s Oinking! Look Who’s Oinking!
One whole rib and still standing? Well, aren’t you the plucky one, sir.
Spider-pig, Spider-pig! Does whatever a spider-pig does. Can he swing from a thread? No he can’t, he’s a pig.
Oh Homer, that’s just an urban legend. People don’t do that kind of thing with fish!
Would you please explain the theory for this three-eyed fish?
Brace yourselves, gentlemen. According to the gas chromatograph, the secret ingredient is… LOVE??? Who’s been screwing with this thing?
Professor Frink, Professor Frink, he’ll make you laugh, he’ll make you think, he likes to run, and then the thing, with the… person…oh boy… that monkey is gonna pay.
I have some sad news to report. A small puppy, not unlike Lassie, was just run over in the parking lot. And now, it’s time for the comedy stylings of Homer Simpson!
Have the Rolling Stones killed!
Well, I guess I learned my lesson. The thing is, I lost creative control of the project. And I forgot to ask for any money.
I’ve had a lot of jobs in my life: boxer, mascot, astronaut, baby proofer, imitation Krusty, duck driver, hippie, plow driver, food critic, conceptual artist, grease salesman, carny, mayor, grifter, body guard for the mayor, country western manager, garbage commissioner, mountain climber, farmer, inventor, Smithers, Poochie, celebrity assistant, power plant worker, fortune cookie writer, beer baron, Kwik-E-Mart jerk, homophobe, and missionary, but protecting people, that gives me the best feeling of all.
My Homer is not a communist. He may be a liar, a pig, an idiot, a communist, but he is not a porn star!
Hello? Hello, taste? Where are you?
Mmm, sacrilicious.
Oh, you Americans with your ‘‘due process’’ and ''fair trials"; this is always so much easier in Mexico.
Ay, un gato malodoro.
¡Ay, Dios no me ama!
Ay, ay, ay! Es Homer Simpson. Me ha molestado! Oh!