jamesliu23/simpsons · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 7 697
Hello, I'm Marco. I'll be your waiter.
Hello, I'm Homer. I'll be your customer.
Never heard that one before. Uh, would you care to select the wine?
I'll do the honors.
No. No. No. No. My God, what passes for a wine list these days. Marco, just bring us your freshest bottle of wine. Chop. Chop.
Charming lad.
Oh, violin guy!
What's your favorite song, Lisa?
The Broken Neck Blues.
Play on.
It is the play-offs, it's five below and there's one loyal fan wearing nothing but a g-string and the team colors painted on his body.
He doesn't look too happy.
Well, maybe the paint has shut off his pores and he's slowly suffocating. Still, that is a real fan.
Well, Lisa, it's Daddy-Daughter day and Daddy needs daughter's picks.
You promised you wouldn't get mad!
Dad, I'm making the Chiefs my five-star silver bullet special. And with your blessing, I'd like to tie it to the Cowboys plus five at Chicago.
Good, good... You call Moe.
Moe, this is L.S. calling for H.S.
Just give me the bet, Lisa.
Hundred and ten, a hundred and twenty... You lucky son-of-a...
Hey Homer, you wanna go bowling next Sunday?
Barney, are you nuts? That's the Super Bowl. How about the Sunday after that?
Well, my ma's coming in from Norway, but... uh what the hell.
And when the doctor said I didn't have worms anymore -- that was the happiest day of my life.
Thank you, Ralph. Very graphic. Lisa Simpson? Would you like to read your essay?
The happiest day of my life was three Sundays ago. I was sitting on my daddy's knee when the Saints, who were four and a half point favorites, but only up by three, kicked a meaningless field goal at the last second, to cover the spread.
Dear God!
Oh dad, you must've bought me every Malibu Stacey accessory there is.
Not quite. They were out of the Malibu Stacie Lunar Rovers.
Ooh, perfume. Meryl Streep's "Versatility."
Boy, I know you're gonna like your present.
Shut up. Shut up. Kiss my butt. Shut up. Go to Hell. Go to Hell.
Dad, I promise you I will never get tired of this.
Homer, those are very thoughtful presents. But you have to tell me where you got the money from.
All right, Marge. I'll tell you, but first you have to promise you will not get mad.
I promise I will get mad, because I always do when you make me promise I won't.
All right. If you must know, Lisa and I have been gambling on pro football.
I did not! I promised I would get mad! She's an eight-year-old girl.
But Marge, she never loses. She's got a gift. Aren't parents supposed to encourage their kids whenever they show talent?
But gambling is illegal.
Only in forty-eight states. Besides, it's a victimless crime. The only victim is Moe, heh, heh, heh. And it's brought Lisa and me together.
Well, I just don't know.
Look, what's the problem? The kids are happy, you smell like Meryl Streep, and I've got that foot massager I've always wanted.
Believe me, Marge, nothing bad could possibly come of this.
You know, dad, we've been watching a lot of TV lately. Maybe, the Sunday after the Super Bowl, we could hike up to the top of Mount Springfield. The fires in the tire yard really make for some beautiful sunsets.
Well, that sounds great honey, but next Sunday I'm going bowling with Barney.
What about Daddy-Daughter day?
Don't worry, the new football season is only seven months away.
So that's it. You just wanted me to help you gamble. You never wanted to be with me at all.
You're a very selfish man.
Go to hell! Go to hell!
Hey, once again. Great present, Dad.
My third husband bought me this.
Give me some chips for it.
Are you sure, ma'am?
Don't tell me what to do, Sonny. I've been gambling since I was eight. And I've been hockin' jewelry since I was twelve. Now give me some chips!
Look around you, Malibu Stacey. All this was bought with dirty money. Your penthouse, your Alfa Romeo, your collagen injection clinic.
You're going back into the shoe-box. It may not be pretty, but dammit, it's honest.
I, Lisa Simpson, am hereby giving away all my ill-gotten Malibu Stacey accessories!
Look Lisa, I bought you a Malibu Stacey Chinchilla coat.
So you've come to buy my forgiveness. Sorry, Homer.
Look Lisa, honey, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. But I really had a good time watching football with you. And I think you had a good time with me.
Yeah, I did.
Well, c'mon, we can still watch the Super Bowl together. Can't we? Eh? Huh?
Well, I would like to see what all the fuss is about.
It's a date! So... do you think the Cowboys will beat the spread?
Put me down.
Look dad, I'll tell you who's gonna win the Super Bowl if you want me to. But it'll just validate my theory that you cared more about winning money than you did about me.
I think Dallas is a mortal lock.
Dallas! Whoo-hoo!
However...
However? What however? What do you mean, however? However what?
However, I may be so clouded with rage that subconsciously I want you to lose. In which case, I'd bet the farm on Buffalo.
Lisa, do me a favor. Complete this sentence: "Daddy should bet all his money on..."
I don't know.
If I still love you, Dallas. If I don't, Buffalo.
Homer, I think that chip's got enough dip on it.
We're live from Miami Florida home of Super Bowl Twenty-nine. Today we're gonna be seen by people in over one hundred fifty countries all over the world. Including our latest stolen affiliates overseas.
Stupide.
Whaa! I'm sorry Mrs. Wellenmelon.
Formidable!
Oh, this sucks. C'mon snipers. Where are you?
Oh, every note is like a dagger in my heart. I gotta get outta here.
Moe's Tavern, Home of the Super Sunday Brunch Spectacular.
Oh! Baloney. Bread!
Gotcha ya down for forty bucks. Good luck Your Eminence.
Sorry, Homer, you can't take any more of my money. I'm, uh, outta the bookie business.
But Moe, you've been taking bets all...
Hey Barney, how 'bout a free beer?
Don't worry, Moe. I'm not bettin'.
What? Gimme that.
I had the greatest gift of all, a little girl who could pick football and I ruined it.
Well sir, we're two hours and forty-five minutes into the pre-game show and we've got ourselves a special guest. Actor Troy McClure, whose new sitcom is premiering tonight -- coincidentally enough, right after the game!
Thanks, Bret. My new show's called "Handle with Care". I play Jack Handle, a retired cop who shares an apartment with a retired criminal. We're the original odd couple!
What made you want to do a situation comedy?
Well, I fell in love with the script, Bret, and my recent trouble with the IRS sealed the deal.
Could be another Drexel's Class. Ooh, looks like we're almost ready for the kickoff.
Dallas kicks -- oh, it's a bad kick, way too short. Buffalo's going to start with excellent field position.
Buffalo's gonna win. Lisa hates me!
Whatcha got riding on this game?

Hello, I'm Marco. I'll be your waiter.

Hello, I'm Homer. I'll be your customer.

Never heard that one before. Uh, would you care to select the wine?

I'll do the honors.

No. No. No. No. My God, what passes for a wine list these days. Marco, just bring us your freshest bottle of wine. Chop. Chop.

Charming lad.

Oh, violin guy!

What's your favorite song, Lisa?

The Broken Neck Blues.

Play on.

It is the play-offs, it's five below and there's one loyal fan wearing nothing but a g-string and the team colors painted on his body.

He doesn't look too happy.

Well, maybe the paint has shut off his pores and he's slowly suffocating. Still, that is a real fan.

Well, Lisa, it's Daddy-Daughter day and Daddy needs daughter's picks.

You promised you wouldn't get mad!

Dad, I'm making the Chiefs my five-star silver bullet special. And with your blessing, I'd like to tie it to the Cowboys plus five at Chicago.

Good, good... You call Moe.

Moe, this is L.S. calling for H.S.

Just give me the bet, Lisa.

Hundred and ten, a hundred and twenty... You lucky son-of-a...

Hey Homer, you wanna go bowling next Sunday?

Barney, are you nuts? That's the Super Bowl. How about the Sunday after that?

Well, my ma's coming in from Norway, but... uh what the hell.

And when the doctor said I didn't have worms anymore -- that was the happiest day of my life.

Thank you, Ralph. Very graphic. Lisa Simpson? Would you like to read your essay?

The happiest day of my life was three Sundays ago. I was sitting on my daddy's knee when the Saints, who were four and a half point favorites, but only up by three, kicked a meaningless field goal at the last second, to cover the spread.

Dear God!

Oh dad, you must've bought me every Malibu Stacey accessory there is.

Not quite. They were out of the Malibu Stacie Lunar Rovers.

Ooh, perfume. Meryl Streep's "Versatility."

Boy, I know you're gonna like your present.

Shut up. Shut up. Kiss my butt. Shut up. Go to Hell. Go to Hell.

Dad, I promise you I will never get tired of this.

Homer, those are very thoughtful presents. But you have to tell me where you got the money from.

All right, Marge. I'll tell you, but first you have to promise you will not get mad.

I promise I will get mad, because I always do when you make me promise I won't.

All right. If you must know, Lisa and I have been gambling on pro football.

I did not! I promised I would get mad! She's an eight-year-old girl.

But Marge, she never loses. She's got a gift. Aren't parents supposed to encourage their kids whenever they show talent?

But gambling is illegal.

Only in forty-eight states. Besides, it's a victimless crime. The only victim is Moe, heh, heh, heh. And it's brought Lisa and me together.

Well, I just don't know.

Look, what's the problem? The kids are happy, you smell like Meryl Streep, and I've got that foot massager I've always wanted.

Believe me, Marge, nothing bad could possibly come of this.

You know, dad, we've been watching a lot of TV lately. Maybe, the Sunday after the Super Bowl, we could hike up to the top of Mount Springfield. The fires in the tire yard really make for some beautiful sunsets.

Well, that sounds great honey, but next Sunday I'm going bowling with Barney.

What about Daddy-Daughter day?

Don't worry, the new football season is only seven months away.

So that's it. You just wanted me to help you gamble. You never wanted to be with me at all.

You're a very selfish man.

Go to hell! Go to hell!

Hey, once again. Great present, Dad.

My third husband bought me this.

Give me some chips for it.

Are you sure, ma'am?

Don't tell me what to do, Sonny. I've been gambling since I was eight. And I've been hockin' jewelry since I was twelve. Now give me some chips!

Look around you, Malibu Stacey. All this was bought with dirty money. Your penthouse, your Alfa Romeo, your collagen injection clinic.

You're going back into the shoe-box. It may not be pretty, but dammit, it's honest.

I, Lisa Simpson, am hereby giving away all my ill-gotten Malibu Stacey accessories!

Look Lisa, I bought you a Malibu Stacey Chinchilla coat.

So you've come to buy my forgiveness. Sorry, Homer.

Look Lisa, honey, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. But I really had a good time watching football with you. And I think you had a good time with me.

Yeah, I did.

Well, c'mon, we can still watch the Super Bowl together. Can't we? Eh? Huh?

Well, I would like to see what all the fuss is about.

It's a date! So... do you think the Cowboys will beat the spread?

Put me down.

Look dad, I'll tell you who's gonna win the Super Bowl if you want me to. But it'll just validate my theory that you cared more about winning money than you did about me.

I think Dallas is a mortal lock.

Dallas! Whoo-hoo!

However...

However? What however? What do you mean, however? However what?

However, I may be so clouded with rage that subconsciously I want you to lose. In which case, I'd bet the farm on Buffalo.

Lisa, do me a favor. Complete this sentence: "Daddy should bet all his money on..."

I don't know.

If I still love you, Dallas. If I don't, Buffalo.

Homer, I think that chip's got enough dip on it.

We're live from Miami Florida home of Super Bowl Twenty-nine. Today we're gonna be seen by people in over one hundred fifty countries all over the world. Including our latest stolen affiliates overseas.

Stupide.

Whaa! I'm sorry Mrs. Wellenmelon.

Formidable!

Oh, this sucks. C'mon snipers. Where are you?

Oh, every note is like a dagger in my heart. I gotta get outta here.

Moe's Tavern, Home of the Super Sunday Brunch Spectacular.

Oh! Baloney. Bread!

Gotcha ya down for forty bucks. Good luck Your Eminence.

Sorry, Homer, you can't take any more of my money. I'm, uh, outta the bookie business.

But Moe, you've been taking bets all...

Hey Barney, how 'bout a free beer?

Don't worry, Moe. I'm not bettin'.

What? Gimme that.

I had the greatest gift of all, a little girl who could pick football and I ruined it.

Well sir, we're two hours and forty-five minutes into the pre-game show and we've got ourselves a special guest. Actor Troy McClure, whose new sitcom is premiering tonight -- coincidentally enough, right after the game!

Thanks, Bret. My new show's called "Handle with Care". I play Jack Handle, a retired cop who shares an apartment with a retired criminal. We're the original odd couple!

What made you want to do a situation comedy?

Well, I fell in love with the script, Bret, and my recent trouble with the IRS sealed the deal.

Could be another Drexel's Class. Ooh, looks like we're almost ready for the kickoff.

Dallas kicks -- oh, it's a bad kick, way too short. Buffalo's going to start with excellent field position.

Buffalo's gonna win. Lisa hates me!

Whatcha got riding on this game?