Find Your Soul Mate, Homer.

Maybe, single people eat crackers - we don't know. Frankly, we don't want to know.

"I'm looking for something in an after-dinner burrito."

"You'll have to speak up, i'm wearing a towel."

Baboons to the left of me. Baboons to the right.

Baboons to the left of me. Baboons to the right. The speeding locomotive tore through a sea of inhuman fangs. A pair of the great apes rose up at me but -- bam, bam! -- I sent them flying like two hairy footballs. A third came screaming at me --HCCAAH, HCCAAH!! ...And that's when I got mad.

Okay, everybody tuck your pants into your socks.

Saxamaphone

Past instances in which I professed to like you were fraudulent.

Happy Wacking Day!

"But first, a look at the local holiday that was called distasteful and puerile by a panel of hillbillies, Whacking Day! In a tradition that dates back to founding father Jebediah Springfield, every May 10th local residents gathered to drive snakes into the center of town and whack them to snake heaven."

Mmm... free goo.

Hi! I'M BIG BUTT SKINNER

Stratawhovious?

Want me to zinc your sniffer?

My Homer is not a communist. He may be a liar, a pig, an idiot, a communist, but he is *not* a porn star!

Lousy Smarch weather.

So You Want A Rock War Eh?

First thing tomorrow morning I'm gonna punch Lenny in the back of the head.