My whole torso was blue.
John has certain ideas about his character, in fact, delusions of grandeur.
That's Amy. She's our friend. Which Amy? The dead Amy.
First season was wildly uneven.
Join the Pack. Donate Blood.
I've met Becky and her husband. They're fun. I remember them.
That is true goober behaviour.
When they can drag themselves out of bed, murder and mayhem is the first thing on their mind.
Guess where it went? Down the toilet.
It's hard to be friends with the dead. It really is.
Okay, where would you like me to put piss on the floor?
The world is more interesting without me?
Love me. Love my debt.
My shorts just jumped up my butt.
They're holding the Olympics up there.
No tweaking my knees. I'll break you.
It's Jew food.
Xena-psychology?
What is Minbari War Syndrome?
Oh, I know her. She's been to MediaWest. You can't fucking miss her.
He was just very...smitten.
This is a cute little brick. It's wee.
I am lousy with names. When I say lousy, I mean I have far too many.
Ger is effervescent. Ger has Alka-Seltzer running through his veins.
I should turn my glasses back up.
And, lo, there was fog machines.
No, they're speaking Minbari; we have Babel fish.
Okay, Mira, we want you to look horrified a lot through smoke.
You know you're in trouble when you mistake orange tea for condoms.
It's just weird to hear people talking like they live in a book.
Don't trust you; you smile too much.
Touch my Malthos!
Confusion is good.
I'm taking their optical printer away from them.
Oh, yeah. That's your target audience: denture wearers.
It's basically going to be: slam "See this bulkhead? Pray it holds."
The Getting Amy To Eat Club
Interesting that in a list of words associated with Christmas they have imbue, lubricate, and loins, but they don't have children. ...Of course, it's a vodka ad.
That's why he's still a vampire: the vampire flies are buzzing around in his digestive system.
He's a Vampire of Very Little Brain, and he can't keep his head out of the honey jar.
Crossover fanfic is a dangerous thing; it takes you places you don't necessarily want to go.
My car is considering running.
Am I looking for anything in particular?
I think that's what was wrong with my cat's brain; she got dressed in one too many cabbage patch outfits.
She should still have scars.
Instead of "we're worlds apart, but when we look up we see the same stars," it's "we're worlds apart, but when we look down, we hear the same train."
That's nothing. You should see me in the next Terminator film.
Wait. This is her apartment, but she restructured the walls.
You don't have to be a confident driver to be a licensed driver.
What, don't you see the leprechaun? I want him to take me to his pot of gold.
Preeeetty. ...I love Mulder.
Have a devil party. ...Uh, deviling party.
Illinois was a tree. One, big tree.
Suck on it.
So it's just dumbass behaivour not accompanied by dumbass loss of clothing.
I love Mulder. He's my friend. I want to take him home and pat his head.
That's Muuuuuuuuldeeeeeerrr! He's a man.
The aliens really have to work on their landings, cuz they really make a disturbance.
A wedding in a Holocaust gym?!
We could clone David and download Mulder into his brain.
Runs-with-boiling-water
Walks-around-with-shit
Whimpers-at-Mulder
[Added at a later date: Responds-with-sarcasm]
How do I tell which one is the right-hand row?
You were scaring me the crap out.
As she attempts so speak through an egg full of mouth.
Ow. Fuck. Don't crack eggs on your wrist.
I'm from the planet Bimbo.