Gin is an alcoholic beverage which, if your mommy’s strong genes are any indication, you’ll eventually learn to love as it slowly destroys a giant portion of your adult life.

Ah. Sorry, Jack, the machine’s broken. Looks like you’re gonna have to guzzle your juice down without any ice. Pretend, um…. You know, pretend it’s gin.

Yay, congratulations, whoopee, all right, see ya.

Apparently he’s doing the fatty dance.” Inappropriate? Well, maybe. But I’m raising my son to be a straight-shooter. That’s his mom, right over there.”

Blondie! He is private practice. Those guys are cocky jackasses who don’t give two shakes about anybody else’s opinion but their own. They’re…they’re me, with one addendum: They’re whores. And I’m not talking about the good kind of whores like my ex-wife. They’re whores for money.

Bobbo! No time! Gotta go tell Mr. Clancy that his tumor is benign. Is that not exciting? Should be worth a finski – whatta ya think?

Jordan said I’m the only man she ever wants to have sex with! (…) Aren’t we sharing fantastic lies we choose to believe for personal reasons?

Oh sure, sure as long as you cut back on your vegetables. And maybe, you know, buy some clothes from this decade.

Oh yes, the huddled masses. Carla! I see you’re trying one of this etablishment disgusting new tomato muffin. Do you know who elses just love tomatoes? Our little orange friends, Mr Mehleison. As you correctly pointed out, the only thing he like more than tomatoes are carrots. And if carrots turn you yellow and tomato […]

You usually have to go to a van convention to see art of the quality, you do.