(Whispering)
George Sr.: They cannot arrest a husband and wife for the same crime.
Michael: Yeah? I don't think that that's true, dad.
George Sr.: Really? I've got the worst (bleep) attorneys!

(on the phone) Then why don't you marry an ice cream sandwich!

Lucille

George Sr.: Time to pull out the basket and wdig into some hot ... Son of a bitch!
Richard Simmons: Oh! Look what you did! You plopped it!
George Sr.: I'll plop you, you mincing little ...

(Regarding Buster) Maybe it was the eleven months he spent in the womb. The doctor said there were claw marks on the walls of her uterus. But he was her 'miracle baby'. And I-I was just too burnt out on raising you guys to care. So... He turned out a little soft, you know...

George Sr.: I never see you anymore, Michael.
Michael: You're in prison. And I was here yesterday.
George Sr. : Oh, yeah, that's... That's... I'm sorry. I couldn't break away from the poker game. Capital-G was down to his boxers.
Michael: Strip poker?
George Sr.: Yeah, and it's tough. We can really only play about... Two hands.

Gob: I'm a complete failure.
George, Sr.: Where'd you get that kind of talk?
Gob: From you. You always say that about me.
George, Sr.: Well, maybe you're not entirely to blame. I haven't always been the best kind of father either.
Gob: Dad, you've done a pretty good job of being a father to everybody in here. What have they got that I don't? I mean, you've never even ... thrown a ball around with me.
George, Sr.: Great. Now, you're an athlete.

Gob: Is there a private bathroom nearby?
George, Sr.: You're looking at it. (taps the commode between the bunks)
Gob: No, no, no. I can't use that. I need privacy. Yeah, I've always been that way. I can't go without privacy. I can't pass this key without privacy.
George, Sr.: Well, I could ask the guys to leave, but, uh ... you know, they've been locking the doors lately. I don't know.

George, Sr.: Keep your arm up. That's how you get accuracy.
Gob: I thought you said throwing the ball against the garage door by yourself was how you got accuracy.

George Sr.: I'm under a lot of pressure here. I'm trying to get my newsletter off the ground. I'm trying to decide which gang to align myself with.
Michael: Is it pledge week already?
George Sr.: I've got it down to two. But honestly, I don't even want to choose. I just feel... I feel like the prettiest girl at the dance.

(Cornballer infomercial)
George Sr.: Time to pull out the basket, and we dig into some hot ... Son of a bitch!
Richard Simmons: Oh! Look what you did! You plopped it!
George Sr.: I'll plop you, you mincing little ...

George Sr.: I haven't had sex in a month.
Michael: You know, you've been here two months.
(Pause)
George Sr.: It's hard to gauge time.
Michael: Yeah. I'll bet.

Narrator: And Michael finds it difficult to get his father out of jail.
Michael: You love it here?
George Sr.: Oh, I'm having the time of my life. Hey, T-Bone.