George Michael: (counting pushups) 100.
Maeby: 100? I had you at ten.
George Michael: I did some earlier in the day. It's a running total.

Michael: I love Marta.
Lindsay: Mom's housekeeper?
Michael: Gob's girlfriend.

Excuse me, do these effectively hide my thunder?


Lindsay: He's a never-nude.
Michael: Is that exactly what it sounds like?

Lindsay: She's always trying to get me to admit that my marriage isn't working.
Michael: So, how's it going with you and Tobias?
Lindsay: It's not working.

You gotta remember. Mom typically has nothing in her system except a bottle of vodka and an estrogen pill.


Lindsay: Yeah. So did I. And now I hear you're telling our mother that I'm completely irresponsible and a stay-in-bed mom?
Michael: That doesn't even sound like me. That sounds like Mom. Or Bruce Vilanch. Could be Bruce Vilanch.

Lindsay: No, Michael, I don't just sleep all day.
Narrator: Actually, Lindsay was so upset at Michael that she tried meditating to calm herself but ended up taking a two-hour angry nap.

Michael: Yeah, it's Michael Bluth for Barry.
Barry: (whispering) I'm not here.
James Alan Spangler: Uh, Barry's not here. Can I give her a message?
Michael: Yeah. Tell her she needs to whisper a little softer next time. And I'm not paying for this phone call.
Barry: I am not a girl, you ...
James Alan Spangler: Go on. Call me something. I'm redoing my kitchen.

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