- Phoebe
- Phoebe
- Chandler
- Chandler
- Monica
- Chandler
- Monica
- Joey
- Rachel
- Ross
- Chandler
- Joey
- Chandler
- Ross
- Ross
- Phoebe
- Joey
Chandler still thinks I'm pregnant and he hasn't asked me how I'm feeling or offered to carry my bags. I feel bad for the woman who ends up with him.
If you want to receive e-mails about my upcoming shows, then please give me money so I can buy a computer.
All right, look if you absolutely have to tell her the truth, at least wait until the timing's right. And that's what deathbeds are for.
Oh, yeah, I'm a gym member. I try to go four times a week, but I've missed the last... twelve hundred times.
Guys can fake it? Unbelievable! The one thing that's ours!
I can handle this. "Handle" is my middle name. Actually, "handle" is the middle of my first name.
You can't fire me. I make your decisions and I say, "I'm not fired." Ha!
What? You made a bet. A bet is a bet. You bet on a bet, and if you lose you lose the bet.
If she wanted to be more like me, why couldn't she just copy my hairstyle or something?
My wife's a lesbian.
All right, kids, I gotta get to work. If I don't input those numbers... it doesn't make much of a difference.
What are you talking about? One woman? That's like saying there's only one flavor of ice cream for you. Let me tell you something, Ross. There's lots of flavors out there. There's Rocky Road, and Cookie Dough, and Bing. Cherry Vanilla. You could get them with jimmies, or nuts, or whipped cream. This is the best thing that ever happened to you. You got married, you were, what, eight? Welcome back to the world. Grab a spoon!
Hey, you know, I have had it with you guys and your "cancer" and your "emphysema" and your "heart disease." The bottom line is smoking is cool and you know it.
You know what? I'd better pass on the game. I'm just gonna go home and think about my ex-wife and her lesbian lover.
First divorce: wife's hidden sexuality, not my fault. Second divorce: said the wrong name at the altar, kind of my fault. Third divorce: they shouldn't let you get married when you're that drunk and have stuff drawn all over your face, Nevada's fault.
Hey, if we were in prison, you guys would be like my bitches.
It's just my character that's not brain-dead.

