Michael Bluth Quotes
Michael: Hey, why don't you pop a tent in front with your cousin Maeby?
George Michael: What? No!
Maeby: I'm not really the outdoorsy type.
Michael: Well, this is a good chance for you to rub off on her.
Michael: Uncle Oscar can last one more day in prison.
Narrator: Not according to that day's blog at ImOscar.com.
Michael: You seem more villainous than usual, Mom. Are you sober?
Lucille: Michael, it's 8 AM!
Michael: So, it's not that.
Oscar: I even started a website: I'm Oscar dot com. I'm innocent, Michael! I'm Oscar! Dot com!
Michael: No, no, don't buy it. I'm taking my son to the cabin, and there's nothing you can say to make me believe that you are not my father.
Oscar: I understand. Your child comes first.
Michael: Oh, my god, you're Oscar.
Oscar: Dot com.
Michael: So, where did you get this kid?
Gob: Yeah, I guess I can tell you now. We were both waiting for our Dads at that garden where the little boy found the arm (Hands Michael the letter) Kid's amazing, though. It's almost like I wish he could be my Dad.
(Michael finishes reading the letter)
Michael: Ok, um, your Dad's not trying to find you. Your son is that kid. Your son ... you're the Dad.
(points out the letter to Gob)
Gob: I've made a huge tiny mistake.
Michael: Maybe you can bring a date to the cabin.
Lucille: I don't want anybody to go inside that musty claptrap.
Michael: ... Oh, the cabin!
Michael: This here is way more important than me trying to find my father. Although, I was very close. I almost had Pop-pop in Reno.
George Michael: Me, too.
(Michael arrives at the office where Lindsay rides up to him on a photocopier)
Lindsay: We did it, Mikey! We're super rich again! And I'm gonna buy a car, the Volvo.
(She hands him a piece of paper from the photocopier)
Michael: N ... Lindsay, you're not going to start spending money. And this is not a Volvo.
Lindsay: Oh, that's from sitting on the copier.
(She grabs the sheet back)
Lucille: I just went off my post-partum depression medication.
Michael: You're still taking that? You had Buster thirty-two years ago.
Lucille: And that's how long I've been depressed about it.
Gob: (embracing Michael) Taste the happy, Michael. Taste it.
Michael: It tastes kind of like sad.
Michael: We're brothers. We shouldn't be fighting. We cannot afford to lose each other.
Gob: I can't. I already lost a brother today.
Gob: Well, I didn't lose him. But he's all puckered and white.
Michael: On the plus side, you can take him to lunch at the club now.
Gob: That's the kind of joke he would have loved!
Gob: And guess what else ... Dad kissed me!
Michael: How? He looked pretty unconscious in that picture.
Gob: I didn't say he was totally into it!