Married... With Children

Al: I'd like to talk to you today about women. I don't like 'em. I mean, you folks are English but even you can't like women. I mean, you're sitting home, watching sports and that's the exact time that they pick to plant their ever widening, what you call bums next to you, and ask "Remember that restaurant we went to 18 years ago. Did you think that waitress was pretty?' then you tell them to shut up, and they get mad. Now, I'm not proposing a solution, 'cause I gotta go soon, I see my wife looking, but I'd just like to say "I don't like 'em." Now could I get a 'Whoa, women. I DON'T LIKE 'EM?' Crowd: Whoa, women. I DON'T LIKE 'EM Al: Oh, by the way, am I alone in hating the French. Crowd: No! Al: I though not.

Poxilda: Lower Uncton shall always be in darkness, though other towns nearby stand in sun. Seamus McBundy: Will you be floating above us, blocking the sun?

Poxilda: Shamus McBundy, are ye done with me horse? Shamus McBundy: Ah, no, ma'am. I had to send out for extra parts, to reinforce its feet. Yeah, that and a sign to go around his neck saying, "I'm with Fatso."

Poxilda: You save your tongue for picking the flies off the pools that dance beneath your arms! Go to, I'm in an 'urry. Shamus McBundy: Oh? Is it the Festival of Pork Pies and Pigs' Waller you're late for? While you're waiting I got a plump pony out back you can snack on.