Dr. Ross Geller

Rust is boat cancer, Ross.

How you gonna run after him with one leg shorter than the other?

Except that I could pick your father up and say, "Like me. Like me, tiny doctor."

Please. He refers to me as "Wet-Head."

Question: Was, uh, "Egg the Gellers" the war cry of your neighborhood?

I tip way too much, way, way too much.

Thanks for dinner last night.

...nobody is allowed to climb on the dinosaur.

You think I'm cheap?

Yeah, actually, Daddy, Ross is allergic to lobster.

...and land on a bicycle with no seat, so...

What kind of person's allergic to lobster?

- Sweetie, it's hopeless. I'm just gonna go. - What? Ross.

It was a joke. I made a joke.

Okay, that's it. I can't take it anymore.

Thank you for teaching me a valuable lesson.

I'm supposed to, um, fall off the Empire State Building...

Well, "Mr. Big-Shot" is better than "Wet-Head."

I wish she was my wife.

But of course, this went right in one ear...

And I'm appalled for you, by the way.

- Ahem. Yeah. - I am so dead.

Why don't you tell him about the mole I haven't gotten checked?

Um, I have... I have a problem.

- Well, that's his last name. - And his first name.