Smithers, I'm home!


[Canned Laughter]

reply

Smithers, I've got a rocket in my pocket.

reply

Mr. Burns: Nonsense! Dogs are idiots. Think about it, Smithers. If I came into your house and started sniffing at your crotch and slobbering all over your face, what would you say?

Smithers: Um, if you did it, sir?

reply

Who am I kidding? The boathouse was the time....

reply

What already?

reply

Hello Malibu Stacy collectors. I'll see YOU at StacyCon 94, at the San Diego Airport Hilton.

reply

You should probably just ignore that.

reply

Well Smithers, another Friday night is upon us, What will you be doing? Something gay no doubt?

reply

I'd like to send this letter to the Prussian consulate in Siam by aeromail. Am I too late for the 4:30 autogyro?

reply

That's odd, the blood usually gets off on the second floor.

reply

And thank you for not making fun of my genitalia.

reply

Oh no, the Pawnee have returned...they probably want their souls back.

reply

There, under the smiling eyes of four stuffed Eskimos... we expressed our love physically... as was the style at the time.

reply

Have the Rollling Stones killed.

reply