Crab-grass baby:
Stroke me pompadour, pompaduooor, pompaduooor, pompaduooor. stroke me pompadour, father. stroke it nicely while i tell you about the problems i am having with my car an my girlfriend. ooo-wo-woo, the white man's burden!

Her and her girlfriend used to go out and booze it up and tear up the upholstery; rip the seats completely out, and so i got a fifty-six olds. about the time i got it running decently, she got in it and wrecked the trans...tore it completely up, so i had to get another oldsmobile (either that or go to tijuana or go to brown moses way down in egypt-land). it's so hard on a child when his car is fucked up. buy me a volvo, faaather.

Harry-as-a-boy:
Isn't it terrific, artificial rhonda!

Crab-grass baby:
One-adam-twelve...see the enormous white pompadour! ha-ha-ha-ho! that's a good one! hoo-hoo-hoo.

Harry-as-a-boy:
He's so young, and yet, so wise!

Crab-grass baby:
I pooped my pants, pooped my pants, pooped my pants! i went doody, faaather, sob-sob-sob-sob-sob.

Harry-as-a-boy:
His vocabulary is astonishing!

Crab-grass baby:
So what if you suck a little cock every once in a while?

Harry-as-a-boy:
Ohhh...i'm so lucky to have a son like this...

Crab-grass baby:
Barf me out...gag me with a volvo!

Harry-as-a-boy:
I can't wait to show him to all the fellas down at the mine-shaft!

Crab-grass baby:
Take me to the movies. buy me a balloon. stroke me pompadour!

Harry-as-a-boy:
Look! look! look at the pecker on him, wouldja! goodjy-goodjy-goodjy-goo! hoo hoo hoo!

Thing-fish:
Dis boy have a 'provlem'! however, how 'bout a nice round of applause fo de three 'wise mammies', comin' atcha outa chute numba five!