Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Ted, you know that I hate her.
Then I held her tight...
Some really weird stuff came up. [Chuckles]
I, Barney Stinson...
so here goes.
[Groans]
[Whispering] She's a messy Bessie.
[Laughs, Moans]
[Sighs] Poor spider.
Why? What...
They're baby girl fertilizer.
Oh, um...
- And more importantly, she makes me feel needed. - Needed?
But, finally, I found this conception Web site that said you should...
Your great-grandfather had all sons.
All my least favorite students have been boys...
That's not gonna be us, right?
Spiders gotta die...
Becky. My new co-anchor.
Son, Viking lore tells us...
It crawled off into my bedroom.
Fantastic.
[Thinking] Point south at the moment of conception...
[Whirring]