What's the matter, boy? Nothing. You haven't said boo all ...
Grampa: What's the matter, boy?
Grampa: You haven't said boo all night and usually I have to wrestle the bucket out of your greasy mitts.
Homer: Dad, I'm in love.
Grandpa: Uh-oh. Why don't you grab yourself a beer, boy.
Homer: But, Dad, I don't drink.
Grandpa: Cut the crap! (Imitating Homer) I just collect the cans, Daddy! (Normal) Now, grab yourself a beer and get me one, too.
Homer: When I see you forming the vowels and continents . . .
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Estelle: Don't you think you deserve to earn as much as a man who does the same job?
Marge: Not if I have to do heavy lifting or math.
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