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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
William Holden.
No! No, I'll be trapped.
They think you're dangerous?
Well, thank God I didn't miss the paint-by-numbers lecture.
-Who are you? -I'm Stanley Sher...
I feel like everything is getting away from me.
-Betty! -What? I can say that, can't I?
-Hungry? -Famished.
-Good morning. -Good morning.
-Any questions so far? -Your name?
Come on. Out! I'm going to lock the door. Out!
It's my mistake.
-You already had your fitting? -We're on our way.
...without a home, unless she's sleeping with her Italian professor.
-Honey, what are you doing here? -I'm staying the night.
Freon. It's gonna change the good old U.S. of A.
What a coincidence.
If these girls can't get back on time, know what I say? Lock them out.
That in California?
"He's got married."
Yeah. How are you?
I spoke to him about reading the poem. He'd rather not. I said all right.
I didn't correct them. I guess I should've done.
David.
-Susan Delacorte. -Thank you, Susan Delacorte.
But breakfast and lunch, you're on your own. So...
Then I met your man, so I....
...we each get our own shelf. I'll make your label this evening.
-Katherine. -Yes?
Not as much as I'd regret not having a family. Not being there to raise them.
Otherwise a tacky velvet painting could be equated to a Rembrandt.
Get the hell out of the way!
Yep. Now he's some fancy teacher...
Betty Warren!
That's everything we always wanted, huh?
They're doing me a favor really.
For you, it is.
Her companion died in May.
-Yes? -File for divorce?
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?
...fix your face and wait for your husband.
So these canvases that they're turning out these days...
Anything wrong?
Spencer's house is your house now.
A hundred years ago, it was inconceivable for a woman...
Winchell wrote it.
So when a position opened in the Art History department...
Stop. They'll tell us when they're ready.
Bedtime, ladies. Bedtime. Let's go. Bedtime.
To you, a housewife is someone who sold her soul for a center hall colonial.
We haven't actually, literally looked at each other for three months...
Be careful. THey can smell fear.
Connie.
-Pardon? -Deb. Your girlfriend.
He doesn't sleep with me. He--
...they overlapped.
You can't go up there!
...an aimless wanderer.
...set your table and arranged for a babysitter.
Do yourselves a favor. Stop talking and look.
Is there a rule against grotesque art?
Nancy'll have a heart attack. She has these rules.
And he told me that he and Deb broke up last summer.
-Could you seat us in the bar? -We're only serving...
...but the grade that matters the most is the one he gives you, not me.
Believe me, it's for your own good.
-Art isn't art until someone says it is. -It's art!
-You ugly bartender. -Stop it.
All right, you have my word.
Hi!
He's-- He's there. I'm here.
Why?
This is quite the event.
Do me a favor.
As of about a minute and a half ago. Paul Moore.
-What do you teach? -Speech, elocution and poise.
At the rate you're going, you could make a fortune.
I'll write you tonight.
By providing contraception on demand, our school nurse...
It was all supposed to be mine, except for the wife.
-...because they choose not to. -No woman chooses to live...
Joe.
It means he and his wife don't speak the same language.
Surprise!
Please identify each of the slides by name, period and date.
Got an extra ciggie?
A New York kike. That's it.
-What is that? -You tell me.
-You ready? -Yeah.
Ever the Wellesley girl...
Just because something is ancient doesn't mean that it is primitive.
Maybe you two weren't....