Category: Season 4

“Sweetie, you are an evil, soulless, chemically-enhanced battle-axe that I truly doubt is a hundred percent human, but…you are an amazing mom.”

“It smells like that odd combo of flopsweat, hopelessness, and feet.”

“Terrence doesn’t follow him around the shop all day telling him just exactly what color is “in” this season or showing all of the other employees that he is not in fact the boss of his own life. You see, the woman is everywhere! She’s there when I work out in the morning, when I work out in the car on the way to work, and when I work out when I get to work. I can’t seem to get away from her. And that used to be fine when she just came around for five minutes every month or so to feed on my dignity, but now, I’d honestly kill myself, Bob, if I wasn’t convinced that Jordan wouldn’t already be there waiting for me in the afterlife. You see, typical of her, she went ahead and signed us up for an eternal tandem bike-ride all along the banks of the River Styx.”

“Bob, people have a private life and people have a professional life, and usually those two hells are kept pretty separate. For instance, I don’t know that much about your home life, other than the fact that you treat your wife like a dog, your dog like a wife, and your son like an androgynous ne’er-do-well who drained your retirement nest-egg to open up a yarn shop in Minneapolis.”

“All right, then, before we jump in to rounds, I see it’s time for my annual cologne intervention. Lonnie, you’re killing us. And, honestly, what’s the point? D’you understand that no matter how badly you wanna get freaky with Karen, here, that’s just not going to happen, and here’s why: She thinks you have the body of a fetus. Oh, Karen, did you tell me that in confidence?”

“Whoa! Bob Kelso here before noon? They’re either giving away free doughnuts at the café, or there’s an Asian prostitute convention in the I.C.U.!”

“I cannot believe that you of all people are the one I have to tell this to: Ego is good, you dumb-ass. It’s the reason that guy wants you to be his surgeon, it’s the reason that she is borderline attracted to you, and it’s the reason she so desperately wants to marry you. Bottom line, in medicine, half of pulling it off is believing you’re the biggest, smartest bad-ass of a doctor to ever walk these halls. You wanna see how you end up if you don’t believe that?”

“Lookit, I know what you’re doing in there. You think that if you act like Dr. Sad Sack that the patient’s gonna opt out of surgery and I’ll have to spend yet another week with a man who has such an unnatural attachment to his gallbladder that, left to his own devices, he would rent a motel room and have sex with it. Now come on, I need you to sling that “I’m gonna get freaky-deeky with my chizzle and–and slizzle up the dizzle for my…bee-aye…yitch” stuff that, you know, you do so well.”

“Oh my God, it is a completely useless organ. Oh, wait a minute, that’s not completely true. Here, it turns out, we could remove it and then jam it in your mouth to keep you from asking the same question we’ve been going over for three straight days. Now, come on, we’re both in a position to get some good news here: You’re gonna feel better, and I’m gonna get the world’s most annoying patient the hell out of my hair. Plus, you’re in a bonus situation - I hand-picked the surgeon that you’re going to be torturing.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered, Jordan. You know why? Because I am always right. It’s something my…my old pal, Gandhi here, knows a little something about, because, you see, we are both egotistical peas in a giant narcissistic pod. And, to prove my point, I’m gonna go ahead and make a unnecessarily showy but undeniably impressive exit. Rope time, Gandhi.”