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Practice English Speaking&Listening with: Homer Defined

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( squeaking )

( bell ringing )

( whistle blowing )

( playing the blues )

( screams )

Homer: Here's good news.

According to this eye-catching article

S.A.T. Scores are declining at a slower rate.

Dad, I think this paper is a flimsy hodge-podge

of pie graphs, factoids and Larry King.

Hey, this is the only paper in America

that's not afraid to tell the truth--

that everything is just fine.

"to me bestest bud Milhouse.

Happy birthday, Bart."

Bart, that's so sweet.

May I see the card?

"Hey there 10 year-old. I couldn't afford to get you a new drum..."

Eww.

Come on.

Open it! Open it!

Uh... maybe a little later, Bart.

Aw Milhouse, just 'cause your Mom didn't let you have a party

doesn't mean you can't get a present.

We had a lovely time on Saturday, Milhouse.

I liked the balloons.

I liked the party hats.

What are you girls talking about?

Nothing.

( giggling )

Twins.

Open your present.

They're official Krusty the clown walkie-talkies!

I'll keep one and you keep one.

Now whenever you want to talk to me

just call me on the phone

and tell me to turn on my walkie-talkie.

Milhouse, I'd like to express my appreciation for Saturday--

jelly bean baskets, personalized noisemakers--

but the little touches are what made it enduring.

What's he talking about?

Hey, look at that dog.

Isn't that something?

Wow! Brown.

Whoa! Springfield Elementary, last stop.

And by the way, I'd like to say thanks

applause, applause to birthday boy Milhouse

for his totally bitchin' party

on Saturday!

( cheering )

Milhouse, I think I left my pants on your roof.

You did have a party.

You didn't invite me.

And I thought we were best friends.

Sorry, Bart.

Bye, little dudes.

Don't learn anything I wouldn't learn.

Ah, Monday morning.

Time to pay

for your two days of debauchery

you hung-over drones.

T.G.I.M., Sir.

What did you do this weekend, Smithers?

Well, I caught up on my laundry

wrote a letter to my mother.

Here's the kicker: I took Hercules out to be clipped.

Who the devil is Hercules?

He's my Yorkshire Terrier, Sir.

He's kind of tiny, so..

You know, it's a joke.

Here's a picture of Hurky.

Wheww.

Well, Smithers, don't you know how to paint the town red.

May I ask about your weekend?

A bit overly familiar, but I'll allow it.

I took in a movie.

An appalling little piece of filth. It's 'leading lady' was a blonde harlot

who spent half the film strolling around naked as a Jaybird.

( gasps )

No, just give the great unwashed

a pair of oversized breasts and a happy ending

and they'll oink for more every time.

What a movie!

And that blond cutie-- does she have assets! ( oinks )

( oinking )

Heh-heh-heh!

Sounds like my kind of flick.

And how!

( all oinking )

( laughing )

Eww! Lemon.

Ugh! Cherry.

Ooh... custard.

Mmm... purple!

( grunting and smacking )

( humming Edgar Winter's "Frankenstein")

Otto, welcome.

Apu, hey.

Got a bad case of the munchies, man.

Time for a heat lamp dog.

Otto, did you know there's a child inside your bus?

Woah, good thing you warned me.

I was on my way to Mexico.

( snoring )

Call me old-fashioned, but movies were sexier

when the actors kept their clothes on.

Vilma Banky could do more for me with one raised eyebrow

than an entire...

(alarm voice ) Warning. Problem in Sector 7-G.

7G? Good God! Who's the safety inspector there?

Uh, Homer Simpson, Sir.

Simpson, eh?

Good man? Intelligent?

Actually, Sir, he was hired under "Project Bootstrap."

Thank you, President Ford.

( snoring )

( alarm beeping )

Huh?

Noise.

Bad noise.

Five minutes before critical mass.

Critical wha..? Okay, okay. Don't panic.

Whosever problem this is, I'm sure they know how to handle it.

( popping )

Huh?

( screaming )

it's my problem!

We're doomed!

Sector 7-G is now being isolated.

My best friend shafted me.

I'll never get over this, Otto-man.

Sure, you will.

Once, my old lady ran off and married my brother.

Well, it hurt, but here it is a month later, and I'm sleeping on their couch.

Marguerita

I want you.

Mr. Devereaux, I can't work under these conditions.

Have it your way, baby.

You're fired.

( moaning )

Oh, Avery.

Call me Mr. Devereaux.

Announcer: We interrupt Search for the Sun for this special news bulletin.

Forget the hair. Just give me the blush.

Oh, we're on.

This station has just learned that a serious crisis is in progress

at the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant.

Oh, my Lord!

On the line with us now, is plant owner C. Montgomery Burns. Mr. Burns?

Oh, hello, Kent.

Right now, skilled nuclear energy technicians

are calmly correcting a minor, piffling malfunction...

( screaming )

...but I can assure you and the public

that there's absolutely

no danger whatsoever.

Things couldn't be more shipshape.

Sir, where's my radiation suit?

How the hell should I know?

Brockman: Mr. Burns, people are calling this a meltdown.

Burns: Oh, meltdown. That's one of those annoying buzz words.

We prefer to call it an "unrequested fission surplus."

Homey, please, be all right.

Got to think!

Okay, somewhere there's a thingy

that tells you how to work this stuff.

The, um... manual!

The manual, right.

Aha!

( screaming )

It's as fat as a phone book!

"Congratulations on your purchase

of a Fissionator 1952 Slow Fission Reactor..."

D-ohhh! Get to the point, man.

Ooh, what's this?

D-ohh! Who'd have thought a nuclear reactor

would be so complicated?

90 seconds to core meltdown.

Sir, there may never be another time to say... I love you, sir.

Oh, hot dog.

Thank you for making my last few moments on Earth

socially awkward.

Looks like this is the end.

That's all right.

I couldn't have led a richer life.

After the meltdown, we can expect roving bands...

I don't like this program.

Change the channel.

...traffic for hours.

Audience: Wheel of Fortune!

I don't understand anything.

When they look up "stupid" in a dictionary

there will be a picture of me.

Dear Lord, if you spare this town

from becoming a smoking hole in the ground

I'll try to be a better Christian.

I don't know what I can do.

Um... oh, the next time there's a canned food drive

I'll give the poor something they'd actually like

instead of old lima beans and pumpkin mix.

One minute to core meltdown.

Shut up!

Simpson, it's all up to you.

It's show time!

Okay, okay, think back to your training.

Instructor: Homer, this may very well save your life one day. This--

Homer?

Yeah?

Please pay attention. This button here controls the emergency override circuit.

In the event of a meltdown, push this button, and only this button.

Ooh, a side.

Simpson!

What?

You see which button I'm pushing?

Yeah, yeah, push the button. Got it.

This is all your fault!

Got to pick a button.

One potato, two potato three potato four... no, wait.

Bubble gum, bubble gum, in a dish.

How many pieces do you wish?

No! No!

30 seconds to core meltdown.

Oh Smithers, I guess there's nothing left to do

but to kiss my sorry ass good-bye.

May I, Sir?

Ughh.

These unfortunate people here,

will be instantly killed.

This circle, which I am sad to say we are in

will experience a slower, considerably more painful death.

Good Lord!

Skinner: They called me old-fashioned for teaching

the "duck and cover" method,

but who's laughing now?"

15 seconds to core meltdown.

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.

Catch a tiger by the toe.

If he hollers, let him go.

Eeny, meeny, miny...

...moe.

( alarm beeping )

Computer: All systems returning to normal.

Danger in 7-G neutralized.

Have a nice day.

Whew.

( cheering )

Will I ever see you again?

Sure, baby.

Next meltdown. Heh.

( squeaking )

TV Contestant: I'd like to solve the puzzle.

"Three Loins in the Fountain."

( buzzer )

( all laughing )

Burns: Yes, we've isolated the problem.

Wouldn't you know-- false alarm.

It seems a single wayward crow

- flew into our warning system.

- Very Good.

Well Sir, your point about nuclear hysteria

is well-taken.

This reporter promises

to be more trusting, and less vigilant in the future.

Excellent.

Well, ta.

Smithers, I can still sell them snake oil.

Now, bring me a wine spritzer

and don't be stingy with the vino.

Yes, Sir.

So, Smithers

it seems you've underestimated one Homer Simpson

our next Employee of the Month.

( glass crashing )

Bart: Milhouse, a little salt?

Sure.

Ohh!

Ha-ha-ha.

Now we're even for your party.

Come on, let's go play.

Bart, my Mom won't let me be your friend anymore.

That's why you couldn't come to the party.

What's she got against me?

She says you're a bad influence.

Bad influence, my butt!

How many times have I told you? Never listen to your mother.

But Bart, she threatened to cut off my allowance.

Whatever she's paying you

I'll double it.

I'm really sorry, Bart.

( groaning )

Sir, about Employee of the Month. If you'll recall

I'm the one who put a five-percent ceiling

on the Keogh Plan which saved this company..

Smithers, you bean counter, give it up.

Simpson's my man.

( slurps loudly )

Hey, way to save our lives.

Yeah, we owe you one.

Well, you know, boys

a nuclear reactor is a lot like a woman--

you just read the manual and press the right button.

( slurps loudly )

Simpson?

Monty Burns.

Come with me.

( all chanting: ) Homer! Homer! Homer!...

Now, now... that will do.

Homer, for your bravery and skill

we award you

this ham, this plaque

this discount coupon book

and my own personal thumbs-up.

( grunting )

Ahh!

Hah!

And to ensure your immortality

your heroic visage will be added

to our wall of fame.

Oh, and what's this?

A congratulatory phone call from Earvin "Magic" Johnson?

( gasps )

Magic Johnson?!

Yello.

Is this really Homer Simpson?

Yeah.

Wow. Homer, I just used our last time out

to call and congratulate you

on averting that nuclear holocaust.

Well, thank you.

Magic, if you play on that ankle, you'll be in incredible pain.

I don't care.

Magic, what if people think a guy's a hero

but he was really just lucky?

Don't worry. Sooner or later, people like that are exposed as the frauds they are.

Thanks, Magic.

♪ ...fight-fight-fight, fight-fight-fight

The Itchy and Scratchy Show! ♪

Oh!

( slurping )

Aaaaaaaaaaah!

Aah!

Hee-hee-hee-hee!

( screaming )

( screaming )

( laughing )

Bart, you're not laughing.

Too subtle?

No, I'm just depressed.

Milhouse's Mom won't let me play with him anymore.

Homer, did you go out and buy a 20-pound ham?

What's all this?

D-ohhh!

"For heroic competence.

"for narrowly averting a meltdown

and proving without question

that nuclear power is completely safe.

Employee of the Month!"

Oh, Homer!

Ohh...

A role model in my very own home.

How convenient.

Look, I get enough admiration and respect at work.

I don't need it here at home.

( door slams )

How are you enjoying your ham, Homey?

Tastes so bitter, it's like ashes in my mouth.

It's actually more of a honey glaze.

Maybe you ate a clove.

What's your problem, boy?

I had a fight with Milhouse.

That four-eyes with the big nose? You don't need friends like that.

How Zen.

What?

What is it?

What are you doing?

Looking at you with quiet awe.

Well, as long as it's quiet.

Milhouse to Bart.

Milhouse to Bart.

Please don't hate me.

Please?

Homer: Ooh, right next to the boss.

( loud bump )

Aw, he'll never know who did it.

( Smithers grumbling )

( Smithers muttering )

( Smithers groaning )

Ah, Simpson, there's someone

I want you to meet-- Aristotle Ametdopolous

owner of the Shelbyville nuclear power facility.

Huh? What?

It seems Ari's been having terrible worker problems at Shelbyville.

They've lost their zest for work.

You must help them find their eanae-eharatou-nah-duleve.

- Their eanae haratou doolawhat?

- Yes.

We want you to give them a pep talk

that turns them from donut-eating goof-offs

into a pack of Homer Simpsons.

I really can't tell them anything.

Oh, cut the false modesty! It's getting tiresome.

Besides, it's your duty. Employee of the Month isn't all ham and plaques.

( Smithers panting )

Well, Smithers.

How kind of you to pay us a visit.

Couldn't help it, Sir.

The parking here is terrible.

( gasping )

This man has no love

for his power plant.

Be gone from my sight.

That one's always been a problem.

One, two, three.

Community Chest.

Nah.

Nah.

Ah!

I've won second prize in a beauty contest.

Collect ten bucks.

Ha, ha! You're losing.

Bart, don't feed your sister

hotels.

Don't worry Mom. There's tons of these things.

I think that game is too old for her.

Why don't you go play with Milhouse?

I don't want to play with Milhouse.

You mean you still haven't made up with him?

It's his mom. She says I'm a bad influence.

C'mon Maggie, let's go throw rocks at that hornets' nest.

( growls )

Mrs. Van Houten, I'm Bart's mother.

We met in the Emergency Room when the boys drank paint.

I remember. Please come in.

Marge, I'm sorry

but I think it would be better

if Milhouse didn't see your son.

Look, I know Bart can be a handful

but I also know what he's like inside.

He's got a spark.

It's not a bad thing.

Of course, it makes him do bad things.

Well, Marge, the other day

Milhouse told me my meat loaf sucks.

He must have gotten that from your little boy

because they certainly don't say that word on TV.

Well, I can't defend everything he does

but let's face it.

All Bart and Milhouse have is each other.

They're too young for girls

and they're a popular target for bullies

and in the Christmas Pageant, they're always sheep.

Please, please, let them be friends.

( sighing: ) I'll think about it, Marge.

So the next time somebody tells you

carny folk are good, honest people,

you can spit in their faces for me.

I will, Mr. Gumble. But if you'll excuse me

I'm profiling my Dad for the school paper.

I thought it'd be neat to follow him around for a day

to see what makes him tick.

Aw, that's sweet.

I used to follow my Dad to a lot of bars too.

( belches )

Moe: Here you go. One beer, one chocolate milk.

Excuse me, I have the chocolate milk.

Oh.

( groans )

What's the matter, Homer?

The depressing effects of alcohol

usually don't kick in till closing time.

He's just a little nervous.

He has to give a speech tomorrow on how to keep cool in a crisis.

What am I gonna do?! What am I gonna do?!

Barney: I had to give a speech once.

I was pretty nervous, so I used a little trick.

I pictured everyone in their underwear--

the judge, the jury, my lawyer-- everybody.

Did it work?

I'm a free man, ain't I?

Milhouse to Bart.

Do you want to come over and play?

Really? We can be friends again?

Did your mom die?

Uh... I don't think so.

Well, who cares?

Milhouse, I'll be right there.

Sorry, Maggie. Game's over.

Hey, mom!

I'm friends with Milhouse again.

Well I knew his mother would come to her senses.

Thanks for sticking up for me.

What makes you think I did it?

Who else would?

Aw...

You be good.

I will.

( gun cocks repeatedly )

As I look out into this sea of smiling faces

I am filled with a sense of loathing and revulsion.

You are not workers.

You are a pack

of mangy, cud-chewing, ugly goats.

Well, you're in for a treat.

We have with us today a real man.

Behold the glory that is Homer Simpson.

( cheers )

( clears throat )

Uh...

"Ladies and...

gentlemen."

Just picture them in their underwear...

Whew!

Ahh!

( voice cracking: ) "Grace under pressure... is no..."

Three minutes to meltdown.

( screaming )

Whew! Saved by the bell.

15 seconds to core meltdown.

Just do what you did before.

All right.

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe

catch a tiger by the toe

if he hollers let him go

eeny, meeny, miny... moe.

Crisis has been averted.

Everything is super.

Thank you, Homer, for saving my plant

with that idiotic rhyming!

Do you even know what button you pushed?!

Sure-- moe.

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.

Is Homer a hero?

The answer is no.

I'm Kent Brockman and that was "My Two Cents."

Now, back to Scott Christian with "Laugh and a Half."

Thanks, Kent.

There was more dumb luck in the news today

when our own Police Chief Wiggum foiled a bank holdup

without even trying.

It seems the chief had gone to the bank

to cash in his penny jar.

...48, 49, 50.

What the..?

Ooh!

Good work, Chief.

Just doing my job.

Yes, it seems the chief pulled a Homer Simpson of his own.

( men laughing )

Whoa!

Huh?

A pretzel?

Wow! Looks like I pulled a Homer.

Chick Hearn: The Lakers have the ball.

Magic Johnson coming down the floor on a fast break.

Magic stops. His feet slip out from under him!

The ball flies out of his hands, hits the referee in the head

goes in the basket!

It's a three-point play!

The Lakers win!

Looks like I pulled a Homer.

Lisa: Our Dad!

Now he belongs to the ages.

Shh!

The Description of Homer Defined