Sundays 8:00 PM on FOX
The-simpsons

Lisa: Mom! We could go on the factory tour and I could complain in person!
Marge: Honey, you're not going to throw red paint at the executives, are you? The Keebler people were very upset.

Lisa: It's awful being a kid. No one listens to you.
Grampa: It's rotten being old. No one listens to you.
Homer: I'm a white male, age 18 to 49. Everyone listens to me, no matter how dumb my suggestions are!

Grampa: Why are you people avoiding me? Does my withered face remind you of the grim specter of Death?
Homer: Yes, but there's more. Dad, I love you, but...you're a weird, sore-headed old crank and nobody likes you!

Lisa: It's not funny, Bart. Millions of girls will grow up thinking that this is the right way to act; that they can never be more than vacuous ninnies whose only goal is to look pretty, land a rich husband, and spend all day on the phone with their equally vacuous friends talking about how damn terrific it is to look pretty and have a rich husband!
Bart: Just what I was going to say.

Mr. Peterson, you can take this job and...fill it! And one more thing...I never once washed my hands. That's your policy, not mine.

Grampa

Looking at that tired old freak has made me realize I'm no spring chicken myself. I can feel death's clammy hand on my shoulder. Wait, that's my hand.

Grampa

Grampa: Anyway, about my washtub...I just used it that morning to wash my turkey, which in those days was known as a "walking bird". We'd always have walking bird on Thanksgiving with all the trimmings: cranberries, Injun eyes, yams stuffed with gunpowder. Then we'd all watch football, which in those days was called "baseball."

Grampa: I leave these: a box of mint-condition 1918 liberty-head silver dollars. You see, back in those days, rich men would ride around in Zeppelins, dropping coins on people, and one day I seen J. D. Rockefeller flying by. So I run out of the house with a big washtub and--Where are you going?
Homer: Dad, we'd love to stay here and listen to your amusing antidote, but we have to take these coins to the mall and spend 'em!

Lisa: Thanks for buying us these toys, Grampa.
Grampa: Ehh, why didn't you get something useful, like storm windows, or a nice pipe organ? I'm thirsty! Ew, what smells like mustard? There sure a lot of ugly people in your neighborhood. Oh! Look at that one.
(Homer parks the car in the driveway; everyone jumps out except Grampa.) Grampa: Ow, my glaucoma just got worse. The president is a Demmycrat. (Everyone rushes into the house) Hello? I can't unbuckle my seat belt. Hello? (Honks horn repeatedly)

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