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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
Maybe it's our fault Chris has such a screwed-up idea
Okay, Chris, now, women really dig those firemen calendars.
What? Excuse me?
* Leave your message when the beep is over *
God, you're more annoying than a creative voice mail message.
I'll just have four to five beers to stop the shaking, and then I'll go outside.
It's made of Skittles.
And then had lunch at a gastropube.
I'm glad to hear that, Chris.
and this DNA evidence centrifuge and fingerprint scanner will be my coatrack.
fell in my lap."
Aw, come on, Lois. I'll make it up to you.
No! Don't hurt Heather. Don't hurt my girlfriend.
We can't arrest him. If anything, they can arrest you.
- or-or we had a date night? - We do stuff.
You know... I don't think I need Heather anymore.
God, I look huge in that bed, don't I?
- You were set up, too, huh? - Yeah.
Chris, when you go on your picnic tomorrow,
Lois, before you say anything. I also got you a gift.
on your body, which would totally take me out of it.
Training Camp with the Toronto Argonauts.
"Dicks for Kids"? "Dicks for Kids."
* It seems today that all you see *
I don't know, but sometimes when life's got you down,
Mm-hmm, yeah, we both work in marketing.
Maybe. I guess there's just one thing left to do.
See, there's nothing here. Just a weird life-sized lady doll
There's only one name that makes sense.
You-you did this?
Apparently the cancer's already in his bones.
there's no better teacher than your old dad.
Hey, do we still have a magazine?
Mom! Heather's disappeared! Have you seen her?!
- Anything you say... - Peter, Peter!
You know what, Peter? I'm not talking to you right now.
* All the things that make us *
Peter, I thought you were gonna take care of this.
We won't have to because we won't be drinking.
Also, it's designed so you can wear it on your butt.
This milk crate will be my chair, this overturned rain barrel will be my desk,
Sex doll? I wish. Heather hasn't even let me get to second base.
Aw, looks like somebody could use a hug.
or the ice cubes in your pitcher would have melted.
* Well, I'm hot blooded *
God, I look huge in that bed, don't I?
Anne Heche's bunghole, I've already seen it.
- Ow! Damn it! - You moved it.
Oh, what do you care? What does anybody care?
Oh, my God! Chris treats that pile of junk better than Peter treats me!
Man, I wish we could quit our jobs and solve children's crimes full-time.
Mom! Heather's disappeared! Have you seen her?!
* Laugh and cry *