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The-simpsons

Lady: Hey, you gotta be eighteen to sell your blood, lets see some ID.
Bart: Here you go, doll face!
Lady: Okay, Homer, just relax.

I don't know why I did it, I don't know why I enjoyed it, and I don't know why I'll do it again!

Homer: Alright Bart, that's it! Go to your room! Now!
Bart: Okay, I'll take some white meat and some stuffing to go and send in the pumpkin pie in about twenty minutes.
Homer: I said now!
Bart: Mom do I have too?
Marge: Yes you do! I hope your happy Bart! You ruined Thanksgiving!

(Lisa tries to teach Bart a method to clear his mind of distraction.)
Lisa: Bart, I have a riddle for you. What's the sound of one hand clapping?
Bart: Piece of cake.
(Bart opens and closes his right fist quickly, making a sound.)
Lisa: No, Bart. It's a 3000-year-old riddle with no answer. It's supposed to clear your mind of conscious thought.
Bart: No answer? Lisa, listen up.
(Bart quickly opens and closes his fist again.)

(After some miniature golf practice Bart enters his bedroom and throws his putter on the floor.)
Homer: (Yelling) What are you doing?
(Homer picks up the putter.)
Homer: That putter is to you what a bat is to a baseball player, what a violin is...to the--the guy that--the violin guy! Now, come on! Give your putter a name.
(Homer hands the putter back to Bart.)
Bart: What?
Homer: Come on. Give it a name.
Bart: Mr. Putter.
Homer: D'oh! You wanna try a little harder, son? Come on. Give it a girl's name.
Bart: Mom.
Homer: Your putter's name is Charlene!
Bart: Why?
Homer: It just is, that's why!
(Homer pins up a picture of Todd Flanders.)
Homer Now, this is a picture of your enemy, Todd Flanders. Every day, I want you to spend 15 minutes staring at it and concentrating on how much you hate him and how glorious it will be when you and Charlene annihilate him!
Bart: Who's Charlene?
(Homer snatches Bart's putter out of his hands.)
Homer: I'll show you who Charlene is! Now start hating!

(Bart and Homer finish a round of miniature golf.)
Bart: Final score: Bart, 41. Homer--Let's see. Six plus six plus six plus six plus six plus--
Homer: Never mind!

(Lisa tries to mentally prepare Bart for the miniature golf tournament with some meditation.)
Lisa: I want you to shut off the logical part of your mind.
Bart: Okay.
Lisa: Embrace nothingness.
Bart: You got it.
Lisa: Become like an uncarved stone.
Bart: Done.
Lisa: Bart! You're just pretending to know what I'm talking about!
Bart: True.
Lisa: Well, it's very frustrating!
Bart: I'll bet.

(Homer puts some pressure on Bart to win the Miniature golf tournament.)
Homer: Look, son, all I'm asking is that you'll try.
Bart: Okay, I'll try.
Homer: D'oh! Anybody can try! I want you to win!

Homer: What does everyone say to some miniature golf, followed by a round of frosty chocolate milkshakes!
Bart: All right!
Marge: Mmm, I was going to wash my hair.
Lisa: And I'm studying for the math fair. If I win, I'll bring home a brand-new protractor.
Homer: Too bad we don't live on a farm.

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