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He's in the MATH department!

No, Martha... he's a biologist.

by Anonymousreply 8112/28/2013

You're all flops. I am the Earth Mother, and you are all flops.

by Anonymousreply 102/21/2013

'Tis the refuge we take when the unreality of the world sits too heavy on our tiny heads.

by Anonymousreply 202/21/2013

Tell them how you killed our baby, Amanda.

by Anonymousreply 302/21/2013

Hey, swampy!

by Anonymousreply 402/21/2013

It's a familiar dance monkey-nipples, they both know it.

by Anonymousreply 502/21/2013

Never mix, never worry!

by Anonymousreply 602/21/2013

You love it. You married me for it !!!!!!!!!!

by Anonymousreply 702/21/2013

Why Martha! Your Sunday chapel dress!

by Anonymousreply 802/21/2013

Violence! Violence!

by Anonymousreply 902/22/2013

Violins! Violins!

by Anonymousreply 1002/22/2013

I peel labels.

by Anonymousreply 1102/22/2013

You have ugly talents, Martha.

by Anonymousreply 1202/22/2013

I dance like the wind!

by Anonymousreply 1302/22/2013

You make me puke!

by Anonymousreply 1402/22/2013

I hope that was an empty bottle, George. You can't afford to waste good liquor.

by Anonymousreply 1502/22/2013

Daddy said we should be nice to them. Because daddy said we should be nice to them. BECAUSE DADDY SAID WE SHOULD BE NICE TO THEM!!!

by Anonymousreply 1602/22/2013

Hes not a floozie! You're the floozie!

by Anonymousreply 1702/22/2013

Why Martha! Your Sunday chapel dress!

by Anonymousreply 1802/22/2013


by Anonymousreply 1902/22/2013

It's a very old ritual, monkey nipples...old as they come.

by Anonymousreply 2002/22/2013

Pansies and violence--my wedding bouquet!

by Anonymousreply 2102/22/2013

Don't forget the rosemary!

by Anonymousreply 2202/22/2013

If you existed, I'd divorice you.

by Anonymousreply 2302/22/2013

Martha's one hundred and eight.

Years old. She weighs somewhat more than that.

by Anonymousreply 2402/22/2013

"Who did the painting?" Some Greek with a mustache Martha attacked one night. "It's got a..." Quiet intensity? "Well, no, a..." Well then, a certain noisy relaxed quality maybe? "No, what I meant was ..." How about a quietly noisy relaxed intensity?

by Anonymousreply 2502/22/2013


What's that from, for christsakes!

by Anonymousreply 2602/22/2013

Dumbbell! It's from some goddamn Bette Davis picture...

by Anonymousreply 2702/22/2013

She works at the grocery store?

She's a housewife; she BUYS things.

by Anonymousreply 2802/22/2013


by Anonymousreply 2902/22/2013


by Anonymousreply 3002/22/2013

I looked at you and you weren't there !!!

by Anonymousreply 3102/22/2013

Getting angry, baby?..

by Anonymousreply 3202/22/2013

OHHH, good grief! Don't you know ANYTHING?

She comes home with the groceries and she walks into the modest living room of the modest cottage, modest Joseph Cotton set her up in, and she comes in and she looks around this room, and she sets down her groceries, and she says..."What a DUMP!

What's the name of the picture?


by Anonymousreply 3302/22/2013

Chicago! The name of the picture - it's called Chicago.

by Anonymousreply 3402/22/2013

A nitecap, are you kidding? We got guests!

Guests. GuestSSS! PEOPLE! We got guests coming over.

by Anonymousreply 3502/22/2013

He's the apple of our three eyes. Martha's a cyclops.

by Anonymousreply 3602/22/2013

Martha, will you show her where we keep the, uh, euphemism?

by Anonymousreply 3702/22/2013

Martha, rubbing alcohol for you?

by Anonymousreply 3802/22/2013

I'm loud and I'm vulgar, and I wear the pants in the house because somebody's got to, but I am not a monster. I'm not.

by Anonymousreply 3902/22/2013

I disgust me.

by Anonymousreply 4002/22/2013

If you existed I'd divorce you.

by Anonymousreply 4102/22/2013

Then the puff went poof.

by Anonymousreply 4202/22/2013

That's the houseboy, for God's sake!

by Anonymousreply 4302/22/2013

Him can't! Him too full o' booze!

by Anonymousreply 4402/22/2013

I love whoever created this thread.

by Anonymousreply 4502/22/2013


by Anonymousreply 4602/22/2013

In fact, he was a bit of a flop.

by Anonymousreply 4702/22/2013

MARTHA: (Braying.) I do not bray!!!!

by Anonymousreply 4802/22/2013

Look, sweetheart, I can drink you under any goddamn table you want, so don't worry about me.

by Anonymousreply 4902/22/2013

I said I was impressed, Martha. I'm beside myself with jealousy. What do you want me to do, throw up?”

by Anonymousreply 5002/22/2013

Flores! Flores para los muertos! Flores!

by Anonymousreply 5102/22/2013

Am I hallucinating or is this thread about me?

by Anonymousreply 5202/22/2013

I'm just saying to the attractive girl that you used to look good. Before you went to rehab.

by Anonymousreply 5302/22/2013

It's gaggle. Not gangle. Gaggle.

by Anonymousreply 5402/22/2013

...his mouse is a wifey little type who gargles brandy all the time..

by Anonymousreply 5502/22/2013


by Anonymousreply 5602/22/2013

Martha kept coming at the boy with her robe flying open.

by Anonymousreply 5702/22/2013

And that's how you play "Get the Guests".

by Anonymousreply 5802/22/2013

Amanda was drunk, of course, and she wasn't watching the pool. We were at Lake Geneva. I was receiving an award for my work in...what was it, dear? Economics?! I wanted to have another child, but her uterus was polluted from all the syphilis.

by Anonymousreply 5902/22/2013

You look like you kept your body

by Anonymousreply 6002/22/2013

You take the trouble to construct a civilization, to build a society based on the principles of... of principle. You make government and art and realize that they are, must be, both the same. You bring things to the saddest of all points, to the point where there is something to lose. Then, all at once, through all the music, through all the sensible sounds of men building, attempting, comes the Dies Irae. And what is it? What does the trumpet sound? Up yours.

by Anonymousreply 6102/22/2013

Come on and give your mommy a big sloppy kiss.

I want a big sloppy kiss!

by Anonymousreply 6202/22/2013

Oh sure, I'm going to be a personal fucking machine!

by Anonymousreply 6302/23/2013

A naughty boy child, who killed his mother and his father... DEAD!

by Anonymousreply 6402/23/2013

George and Martha, sad, sad, sad

by Anonymousreply 6502/23/2013

"War, Martha?"


by Anonymousreply 6602/23/2013

Nothing says "Mary!" more than this picture.

by Anonymousreply 6702/23/2013

Now I feel like having a Brandy Alexander.

by Anonymousreply 6802/23/2013

You don't make it in the sack, you're a houseboy.

by Anonymousreply 6902/23/2013

The fourth guy I should have married instead of Jordan was Bradford Dorn III. He had a yacht. And a backbone.

by Anonymousreply 7002/23/2013

Just a tad of the brilliant American Dad parody.

by Anonymousreply 7102/23/2013


by Anonymousreply 7202/23/2013

Quid Pro Quo, Martha.

by Anonymousreply 7302/23/2013

A drowning man takes down those nearest.

Good. Better. Best. Bested.

by Anonymousreply 7402/23/2013

Make me another drink, Jordan. He justifies his existence by mixing a passable cocktail.

by Anonymousreply 7502/23/2013

Keep your paws clean for the undergraduates.

by Anonymousreply 7602/23/2013

I am.

by Anonymousreply 7702/23/2013


by Anonymousreply 7802/24/2013

I like the old joke about professors that director Nichols' film repeated about his film Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf: The reason why there's so much viciousness, betrayal and back-stabbing in academia is because the *stakes* are so low.

by Anonymousreply 7902/24/2013

...trying to break the bathroom door to wash him in the tub when he's 16.

by Anonymousreply 8002/24/2013

Let's play hump the hostess.

by Anonymousreply 8112/28/2013
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