Category: Season 3

Oh, don’t even start, Tarla, or Curk, or whatever you’re calling this little two-headed judgmental freak-show. Why don’t I do a little piece for you I like to call Your First Year of Marriage: I do.” Oh, kiss, kiss, kiss. “Why can’t we have a baby?” “Why you spending so much money on clothes?” “Why you sleeping with my sister?” “Why can’t I hang out with my peeps?”

You got so much Botox in your expressionless face, I can’t tell.

Out of my way, space-waster!

You told ’em this exact same story and bored ’em to death?

You know, Carla, I gotta say your–your makeup today does not in any way make you look like a desperate bowling alley prostitute.

Look, Newbie, if you go ahead and leave this hospital knowing only one thing — and God save me, it looks like there’s a real chance that might happen — please let this be that one thing: I’m in charge, and I don’t care about your opinion. Now go get me a cup of coffee.

I hope this won’t be awkward for ya, but I promised the whole band you’d have sex with them.

Well, when it’s my turn to listen to the baby monitor, I just wait till you’re asleep and I turn it off.

Lemme go ahead and share a little something special with you that I like to call Perry’s Perspective. One: If someone’s standing in front of me in line at the coffee shop and they can’t decide what they want in the half an hour it took to get to the register, I should be allowed to kill them. Two: I’m fairly sure if they took porn off the internet, there’d only be one website left, and it’d be called Bring back the porn!” Three and most importantly of all: The only way to be respected as a doctor — nay, respected as a man — is to be an island; you are born alone, you damn sure die alone.”

I don’t wanna see you around here anymore, okay?