Colfax McLiverneck

Jimmy shat corn, and I don't care.

How dare you. (corn)

Not a single mention of corn. Unacceptable. The Cornthusiasts Society of Cornwall, Nebraska, of which I am Honorary Chairperson, strongly disapproves of this episode.

It was said of Roger the Shrubber that he lingered long after Corn Coberman's funeral, puffing his hashish pipe, humming the chorus to Margaritaville so, so softly.

...so I curtailed my Walpole-ing activites, sallied forth, and infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some cheesy corn fritters.

Sir Adrian Wapcaplet could sell anything—even very small pieces of corn to even smaller travelling corn collectors.

So satisfying to hear the triumphant return of Bictor and Tiny. Now we require a reprise of the Wompster. Perhaps you can lure her in with a Digiorno crust stuffed with creamed corn.

(Normal Auckervoice) Baa, Baa, black sheep, have you any yummy corn? (Sexy Auckervoice) Why yes I do, handsome sire—three scrotes full and shorn.

Indeed—not worth it's weight in corn husks.

I have to pick three sides? Three? Wow, well, I guess I'll have the grits, uhhhhhh, the fried okra, and, uh, ummmmm, let's see, uhhhhhhhhhhh, hmmmm, no, wait a minute, I think I'll...dang it, this is hard. Let's go with thuuuuhhhhh, it'll have to be the, OH MAN they all look SOOOO GOOOOOD, do you have any—oh no you probably don't—OK. I've got it. I'll have the mashed potatoes. NO WAIT! Oh, I didn't see this here! I'll have the corn. Yeah, the corn for sure. Definitely. Corn.

We need to talk about acorns.

Mexican cornbread? Yes, please! Mexican't cornbread? WHAT! Get outta my face, Danny Trejo, and take your half-baked recipes with you!

Your smoke would be more satisfying if it were a corncob pipe.

What's up, corn?

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear. Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair. And also, he totally forgot to buy our tickets to the Omaha Cornfest, so I guess we're headed back to Nomaha. Again.

Once, twice, three times a lady. Thrice, twice, one time your corndoggin' mamma.

Geez, shampoodler. Have a corndog and chill.

Not a fan of the god and faith talk. So-called intellectuals who espouse the coexistence of religion and reason are one of the most egregious obstructions to human progress, and I take them no more seriously than prosperity preachers or evangelistic fanatics. And also corn.

A long time ago, in a cornfield far, far away, a hoedown went way, way too far with the whole hoe thing.

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder; I say an abscess makes a corn shart farther.

The outcome of this episode will be decided by a corn toss.

There once was a man from Savannah Whose ear was so long he could suck it. He said with a grin as he guzzled his cornshine, "Enough of this limericky foolishness. I won't allow it. And now let's hear some Comedy Bling Bliz-nong!!"

A man who is his own lawyer has a fool for a client. A lawyer who is his own client has a man for a foo...you know what? Forget this catchphrase-crafting bullshit. Let's go eat some corn.

A woman's work is never done. If she ever suggests that it is, throw two cans of corn at her, and that's why she's got two black eyes! Get it!?

Mammas, don't let your babies grow up to be cornboys.