Mondays 10:00 PM on FX

Cyril crying about the thought of Lana and Archer back together
Pam: And that's why I don't sleep with co-workers. [Pause] That, and nobody let's me.
Dr. Creiger: I've had good results with ether.

Archer: Ha ha ha, Ramon.
Ramon: And just why is that so funny.
Archer: Not that. Woodhouse, he's all tied up somewhere. Scared and alone. Ha ha ha, probably dehydrated.

No no no no, like a big sweaty fireman carries you out of a burning building, lays you on the sidewalk and you think, yeah, ok he's going to give me mouth to mouth. Instead, he just starts choking the shit out of you, and the last sensation you feel before you die, is that he's squeezing your throat so hard that a big wet blob of drool drips off his teeth and just, plurp, falls right onto your popped out eye ball.


So you just listen to me, Mr Man. Get me some video footage of hot man on man action by tonight, or don't bother coming home!


Rudi: I'm gonna dress you up like a little gnome and just have you live in my garden.
Woodhouse: I would like some new clothes.

Oh my god, you like, sneeze glitter!


Archer: Do you not see me rocking this chiseled slab of hard man body? I mean come on. Are you gay or not?
Ramon: I am, but you... you are so not my type.
Archer: Hey! I am everybody's type!

Is this some sort of viral marketing? Or are you asking me specifically if I have a penis?


Because how hard is it to poach a god damn egg properly? Seriously, that's like eggs 101 Woodhouse.

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