Annie: Mrs. Burbridge, would you come over here for a moment? Has it *escaped your attention* that these children have head to toe poison oak?
Adele Burbridge: Well no, I… well yes, but…
Annie: But WHAT? My children are in need of medical assistance! And you can sit here and smugly lecture me on the importance of tests? Tests which exist to pigeonhole childrens potential, a thing which cannot possibly be measured, least of all by anal compulsive HUNS! And my husband may be a “large child,” but that’s none of your business! And my children may be rotten, but they’re MINE. And I think that they’re bright, and sensitive, so I have no doubts whatsoever about their intelligence. I do however have serious doubts about YOURS.
Happy 74th birthday to Goldie Hawn!!!
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Dean Proffitt: You know what your problem is? You are so goddamn bored, you have to invent things to bitch about! You don’t have a single thing to do on this earth except for your hair! The closet was fine, you just needed something to fill up your useless, nail-polishing, toe-polishing, rich bitch, sun-tanning days!
Annie: Tell me something about my life, Dean, something not horrible.
Dean Proffitt: Well uh… yeah, there was that time you were working at Burger Boy, and this kid started choking on a French fry, and everybody in the place panicked, including me, except you, you knew exactly what to do. You ran over to the kid and you gave him that Heimlech, you know,
Dean Proffitt: and puh! The kid puked up the fry and they named you Burger Boy employee of the month. They put your picture above the cash register and everything.