Finish Your Milk

You're the Worst 1×8

Becca: Marriage means being in it 24/7 from the moment when you wake up in the morning, and you see that red, curly happy trail, to at night when he rolls off of you and asks if you've had your "gazz" yet.

Paul: ...And as I like to say, once you pedal on your back, you never go back. To pedaling normally.

Paul: Did you know that four American presidents were home-brewers? Can you guess?... George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and...? The answer is Barack Obama! Uh... Lindsay?

Edgar: Am I just some unpaid servant who lives here for free?
Jimmy: That's a concise way of putting it.
Edgar: My caseworker says maybe you should be paying for my meds.
Jimmy: Right. Listen to me, my friend. You bought into a long con. Society screwed you over, and we owe you for that. I, personally, do not owe you, but a sort of collective "we" does. And you need your meds so you can shake off some of the damage done by Cheney's fictional yellowcake uranium. So, you turn around, you go back to the V.A., and you demand your due!

Jimmy: I have no idea how to cook.
Edgar: What have you been doing all this time?
Jimmy: Just, uh, stirring ketchup in the pan.
Edgar: Okay. Okay. Um... that's a good base... Uh, pinch of salt, throw it in there.
Jimmy: Pinch-pinch of salt.
Edgar: And then add a little bit of, uh, olive oil, two, three counts worth... Now stir it in. Stir it in nice and gently. Stir it. And, uh, keep stirring, keep stirring.

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