Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

you think that that somehow entitles you to make demands of me?

I got my start as a reporter. Anything for the get, eh?

[Kate] I can smell them already.

-Are you okay? You're bleeding. -[sobbing]

Oh ye of little faith.

{\an8}-Don't say it, Tully. -You don't know what I was gonna say.

It is my job to keep you healthy and to help you grow. There you go.

Sit your ass down, have a glass of wine with us.

It's a pull-out couch, which is, uh, different.

I need to go poop.

How? Got no time.

I don't owe you anything.

I should grab some Neosporin in case I get a wound.

We said we were marketing reps

You just said if they're good kissers you fall in love.

Like, right now, I can't stop staring at that giant hickey on your neck.

You know, there's a difference between boundaries and crazy.

It's so wrong how rich celebrities get everything for free.

Let's go. Come on.

Uh-- If I'm not there, it just all falls apart.

who's a page at the mayor's office.

{\an8}You're gonna say, "Put me in, Coach," but longer.

{\an8}No, no, no, no. I can't be seen on camera looking like, like…

The cookies are just a vehicle driving you to the milk.

Seriously, there's like a river running down the back of my neck. One sec.

or we're gonna have to turn you in to the chaperones.

Well, how do I know what I want?

I just feel like I'm always looking at the back of your head

{\an8}[sneezes]

-Eighth grade boys are idiots. -Yeah. High school boys too.

-I'm not blushing. I am a grown adult. -[cell phone rings]

so I am more than happy to drive you to doctor's appointments

Look, hold on. Can we just pump the brakes?

-Oh, shit. -What?

and a probiotic at bedtime.

Ugh. It's not even the penis that I miss, it's the kissing.

How can you tell he's short?

Hey, where are you going? Here. I like the bed better.

You keep your eyes open and you do the right thing.

Oh my God. It is, like, a thousand million degrees in there.

{\an8}Well, merry Christmas to me.

What? Wait, you're-- You're leaving?

But you're talking about him. You never talk about your flings.

No, you didn't have to. She wouldn't want you to go through all the trouble.

Oh, my-- Oh, my!

Maybe you're just not his type?

where Carol's butchering the theme to {\an8}Xanadu,

[soft rock music playing]

You're writing about our custody arrangement in Seattle Digest?