Grampa Vs Sexual Inadequacy

Troy McClure:You know, I'm a little confused about the whole robbery situation. Where exactly did you hide the diamonds?

Slim:Up on the roof, baby. You gotta get high to get the goods.

Troy McClure:Get high? I thought we were just stealing diamonds!

Homer:This is high-caliber cinema! You don't see movies like this every day.

Marge:Homer, we could turn this off and spend some time together.

Homer:Are you kidding? I've already seen 'Radioactive Man 2' twice, and I'm still watching that instead!

Homer:What? No romantic tension here! Say, is anyone else hungry for... waffles?

Bart:Can I sleep in your room tonight?

Homer:No.

Marge:Absolutely not.

Bart:Can I stay up all night on the roof watching for UFOs?

Homer:Sure, go ahead.

Marge:That sounds fine to us.

Homer:Marge, I'm too stressed for sex. Work has been killing me, the bills are piling up, and Bart got another D on his report card.

Marge:Homer, those are just normal problems.

Homer:Well, there's more. Gas prices are up, the Dodgers are in last place, and I'm pretty sure my cholesterol is higher than my IQ.

Marge:So what would help you feel better?

Homer:Well, first they'd have to solve global warming, achieve world peace, end world hunger, and convince the people at the coffee shop to stop charging me extra for extra cream. Only then could I possibly think about... you know.

Homer:Wow, look at this book! 'Spicing Up Your Love Life.' This guy on the cover looks just like Lenny!

Marge:Homer, that's not the point of the book.

Homer:I'm telling you, Marge, it's him! Same stupid grin, same receding hairline...

Homer:We were just... uh... studying artillery! Yeah, that's right. These are artillery manuals. Very important for... national defense.

Moe:Homer, that's a book called 'The Joy of Sex.'

Homer:Right, right. The Joy of... Artillery. It's a new military strategy.

Marge:Well, actually, Moe, we were just—I mean, Homer and I were looking at—well, you see, it was—

Moe:Save it, Marge.

Bookstore clerk:I'd recommend this book. It's wholesome sex advice by Paul Harvey.

Homer Simpson:Paul Harvey? Isn't he that pleasant version of Grampa?

Lisa:I hope this matches the excitement of 'An Inconvenient Truth.'

Al Gore aide:Sir, someone bought your book.

Al Gore:What? Someone actually bought it? We must celebrate this momentous occasion!

Al Gore:Celebration! *singing awkwardly* C'mon, it's time to celebrate!

Homer:Now this is the life! Paul Harvey said a bath together would spice things up!

Marge:Homer, I can't move my arms.

Homer:Just relax, Marge. We're supposed to be romantic.

Marge:I'm stuck against the faucet!

Homer:Well, I can't feel my legs. This is actually pretty great!

Motel clerk:We have the honeymoon suite, the heart-shaped bathtub room, and our most popular — the death-themed room with a vibrating coffin. Very romantic.

Motel Clerk:I'm terribly sorry, but this is the last available room we have.

Motel Clerk:I'm sure you'll find it quite comfortable.

Customer:What's that smell?

Motel Clerk:Oh, that's just the toilet. It's been overflowing for three days.

Homer:No, no, no. This is our romantic fantasy. We're both janitors living here.

Homer:Hey baby, I rented out this whole utility room just for us...

Marge:Homer, this is so romantic!

Janitor:Excuse me, I gotta get my mop and bucket.

Homer:Beat it, pal! We're trying to have a moment here!

Janitor:This is my workplace. I work here.

Grampa:Is it silicosis? Asbestosis? Mesothelioma? Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis?

Homer:Dad, can you please not say that word?

Grampa:What, sex? I had sex. Your mother and I had sex. That's how you got here.

Homer:Dad!

Grampa:What? I'm just saying, I personally had sex. Many times.

Grampa:I'll help you find your way back to Marge's heart. I'm like a dowsing rod, except instead of water, I find... well, let's just say I know where to put the rod.

Homer:Dad, that's gross.

Grampa Simpson:I was trying to make fake holy water to sell to the church, but I accidentally knocked over a bottle of castor oil into the vat. Then I sneezed, and some of my denture cream fell in there too. Well, I figured, what the hell, I'll just sell it anyway.

Grampa Simpson:Turns out it was the best aphrodisiac money could buy! The church ladies couldn't keep their hands off me for weeks.

Homer:Kids, get out of the house! Now!

Homer:And don't come back until the big hand is on the twelve and the little hand is on the three!

Homer:And if you see a blue car, go the other way!

Homer:And don't talk to anyone named Steve!

Homer:Or anyone who looks like a Steve!

Homer:In fact, avoid all Stevens!

Marge:Well, Homer, you certainly seem confident after that tonic.

Marge:You're like a cross between Cary Grant and Bing Crosby.

Homer:I, Homer Jay Simpson, do solemnly swear to avoid my father at all costs. So help me God.

Homer:This is it, Marge! I can feel it! This time I'm gonna strike it rich!

Marge:Homer, didn't you say that about the pretzel wagon? And the hologram store? And the—

Homer:Yeah, yeah, but this one's different! I've got a really good feeling about it.

Marge:That's what worries me.

Homer:D'oh!

Homer:What's wrong with a little sex drug? It's not like we're selling it to kids. Well, not intentionally.

Grampa Simpson:This tonic is amazing, surprising, and her-prising!

Professor Frink:Well, I say we eschew this medieval quackery and instead propose a gathering at the particle accelerator facility, where we might observe the collisional interactions of subatomic particles, eh-giddily-giddily!

Doctor:Agreed. Ixnay on the edicine-may ow-shay.

Kirk:Son, I got you a pup tent so you can sleep outside.

Milhouse:Wow! Thanks, Dad! This is so cool!

Kirk:Yeah, well, you'll be out there permanently now.

Milhouse:Wait... permanently?

Bart:Yes! Finally! I'm in charge now. All hail King Bart!

Milhouse:Uh, Bart, shouldn't we, like, figure out what happened to everyone first?

Bart:Milhouse, you're overthinking this. I'm the ruler now. Deal with it.

Bart:Wow, this guy's credentials are amazing! 'Dr. Zynthia Zypherstein, PhD in Astrophysics from MIT, former NASA scientist...'

Bart:Wait, it also says 'Also appeared on Oprah twice.'

Bart:'Owns a really cool telescope. Once saw a weird light. Has a website.'

Bart:'Believes in aliens. Really, really believes in them.'

Milhouse:Dude, that last one doesn't even sound like a credential.

Bart:There's more! 'Has a Hotmail account specifically for UFO tips. Once stayed up until 3 AM watching the sky. Doesn't afraid of anything.'

Bart:Department of Ufology, University of Minnesota... wait, that's real.

Bart:Department of Extraterrestrial Studies, Shelbyville Community College.

Grampa Simpson:We'll start in Erectile, then head to Dysfunction, then Premature, then Climax, then Orgasm, then Post-Coital, then we'll finish up in Refractory.

Grampa Simpson:Have we met before?

Volunteer:No.

Volunteer:Your son's picture is literally on our product.

Grampa Simpson:Back in my day, we had standards in the medicine show business. You never let the customer see you on the bottle!

Milhouse:My dad says all the time that he's "going out for a pack of smokes." He's been gone for 10 years. I think he's building up to something big.

Lisa:Well, if we apply Occam's Razor to conspiracy theories, the simplest explanation is usually the correct one.

Milhouse:So what's the simplest explanation for what's really going on?

Lisa:Obviously, we're all being controlled by reverse vampires who are only active during the day and can only be killed by the rays of the moon.

Grampa:Well, it all started when a mysterious cause spooked the cows.

Grampa:Back when I was a boy, we had a Philco television set. Best dang thing ever invented. My father would sit us kids right in front of it for hours. Said the radiation was good for us - built character. Now look at me, I'm still here! Though I glow in the dark sometimes.

Young Homer:And that's the way it is!

Young Homer:Ah, ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country!

Homer:I'm gonna be President of the United States someday!

Grampa:No you're not.

Homer:Nobody ever encourages me. If only someone believed in me, I could be great.

Homer:I could be a astronaut... or a astronaut doctor... or a guy who fixes the porch when it gets all saggy.

Grampa:You think you had it rough? You were an accident! Your mother and I were just trying to have a little fun, and boom — nine months later, you showed up and ruined everything!

Homer:Dad!

Grampa:I was gonna be a dancer, Homer. A dancer! But no, I had to get a job at the plant to support you and that mother of yours.

Homer:I'm mad at Grampa because he's always complaining and never listens to me.

Marge:Homer, you say the exact same things to Bart.

Homer:That's different. When Bart does it, he's all cute about it.

Milhouse:They're gone... all the adults. We finally did it.

Bart:Did what? We didn't do anything.

Milhouse:Exactly. That's the beauty of it. We simply stopped showing up to dinner. One by one, they disappeared. Ralph forgot to go home, so his parents got worried. Then Lisa decided to eat at the library. Soon, every kid in Springfield abandoned the dinner table.

Martin:Preposterous! You're suggesting a coordinated conspiracy of negligence?

Milhouse:It's foolproof. Without us at dinner, the parents have no reason to cook, no reason to gather, no reason to exist. Dinner is abolished.

Homer:Okay son, first rule of bike riding: keep your hands on the handlebars at all times.

Bart:Got it, Dad.

Homer:Second rule: always wear a helmet for safety.

Bart:No problem.

Homer:And third: never ride into traffic.

Bart:Ay caramba!

Bart:Check it out, Dad — no hands!

Homer:Bart, no! The helmet!

Bart:Who needs it?

Homer:Watch out for that car!

Bart:Whoa!

Lisa:Dad, you can't just suddenly start paying attention to me. It's transparent.

Homer:Transparent? Lisa, I'm solid as a rock. You can touch me right now.

Homer:Dad, I burned down the house!

Grampa:No, I burned down the house!

Homer:I did it first!

Grampa:Well, I did it better!

Grampa Simpson:You know, Homer, you're tall.