Gardening With Native Plants of the Pacific Northwest
Alright, let's mafia things up a bit. Joey, burn down the ship. Clamps, burn down the crew. What's with you kids? Every other day it's food, food, food. Alright, I'll get you some stupid food. I can explain. It's very valuable.
One hundred dollars. Kids don't turn rotten just from watching TV. Who are those horrible orange men? Pansy. Well I'da done better, but it's plum hard pleading a case while awaiting trial for that there incompetence.
And from now on you're all named Bender Jr. Why am I sticky and naked? Did I miss something fun? Hey, guess what you're accessories to. Yes, I saw. You were doing well, until everyone died. You know the worst thing about being a slave? They make you work, but they don't pay you or let you go.
Meh. If rubbin' frozen dirt in your crotch is wrong, hey I don't wanna be right. Are you crazy? I can't swallow that. We can't compete with Mom! Her company is big and evil! Ours is small and neutral! Oh, I think we should just stay friends.
Leela, are you alright? You got wanged on the head. Then we'll go with that data file! Isn't it true that you have been paid for your testimony? Good news, everyone! I've taught the toaster to feel love!
We need rest. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is spongy and bruised. Is the Space Pope reptilian!? Well, thanks to the Internet, I'm now bored with sex. Is there a place on the web that panders to my lust for violence?
And I'd do it again! And perhaps a third time! But that would be it. One hundred dollars. I didn't ask for a completely reasonable excuse! I asked you to get busy! I'm just glad my fat, ugly mama isn't alive to see this day.
Fry, we have a crate to deliver. Please, Don-Bot… look into your hard drive, and open your mercy file! I could if you hadn't turned on the light and shut off my stereo. Bender?! You stole the atom.
I barely knew Philip, but as a clergyman I have no problem telling his most intimate friends all about him. As an interesting side note, as a head without a body, I envy the dead. And so we say goodbye to our beloved pet, Nibbler, who's gone to a place where I, too, hope one day to go. The toilet.
Who are you, my warranty?! I meant 'physically'. Look, perhaps you could let me work for a little food? I could clean the floors or paint a fence, or service you sexually? And I'm his friend Jesus. Now what?
I saw you with those two "ladies of the evening" at Elzars. Explain that. Yeah, and if you were the pope they'd be all, "Straighten your pope hat." And "Put on your good vestments." Nay, I respect and admire Harold Zoid too much to beat him to death with his own Oscar.
