The Simpsons

D'oh!

Hmm? (gasps)

-(bell ringing) -Whoa!

(ringing continues, Homer groaning)

Oh, I love going to aquatic parks.

Sure, they have worse rides than amusement parks,

less fish than aquariums-- but the parking is ample!

Now to seal you in for safety.

Oh, there's so many photo ops,

but I already filled up my camera in the parking lot.

Parking lot C sign, the tram,

a license plate from Canada,

a bird eating potato chips,

my feet walking,

that boy who got sick on the tram,

Grampa talking to a mermaid hedge,

the park rules in Spanish,

a fat baby,

Grampa telling a story to a trailer hitch.

-(ding) -Oops! I erased them all!

I want to do that!

I'm going to take stuff from the lost and found!

My feet hurt!

My left ear's freezing!

My right ear's burning!

I got fish smell in my wrinkles!

Attention, exploro-nauts!

That's us!

In one minute, we'll be starting

our rock-quatic roll-tacular!

Hurry! If we don't get a seat in the splash zone,

I've worn my bathing suit under my clothes for nothing!

A splash-'em-up show?

Reminds me of the time I high-dived into a damp sponge

for the amusement of Federal Reserve Chairman Paul Volcker.

Grampa, no stories!

You can come with us, or sit here on the shark bench.

You know, I did sit on a shark once...

Dad, bathing suit!

Oops! No bathing suit.

Let's give a wet and wacky welcome

to Springfield's oldest performing mollusk...

Get to the show!

This is the show!

Here's the original Octomom: Slimu!

Slimu! Did you get my letters?

Slimu wasn't expecting company,

so he's got some cleaning up to do!

Slimu looks kind of uncomfortable.

Wouldn't you be if you were a saltwater fish

in a freshwater aquarium?

The country has its first black president.

Maybe it's time for the first octopus president!

And when it comes to signing bills,

he can provide his own ink!

Ahh, oily!

They'll cheer a dancing octopus,

but not an old man complaining about everything.

Excuse me, sir. Is this seat taken?

Well, not for a pretty girl like you!

Well, this is the first time I ever sat on a shark.

Not me-- sat on a real one once!

-Tell me more! -More?!

Play it cool, Grampa.

Play it cool!

It was back in World War II.

I was a Seaman First Class

on the USS World War I.

We were minding our own business

when we were attacked by a heat-seeking torpedo

we had fired the day before.

Don't worry about the sharks, boys.

Just play possum and they'll leave you alone.

Unfortunatley, sharks love possum.

Hey, boys, these sharks can't bite us if we're on their backs!

Yeah.

It's like riding the Cyclone back at Coney Island!

Whoa!

It's like riding a dust devil back in Yuma--

like I read about in a book back in Boston!

By the time the rescue planes came,

we had those sharks trained pretty good.

I still keep in touch with all those men

and some of the sharks.

Why, here's us in Hawaii last year.

Good times.

Sir, my name is Marshall Goldman.

I'm a newspaper columnist

specializing in human interest stories.

You're in the newspaper business?

Something that's gonna die before I do!

You have any other stories you'd care to tell me?

Someone's listening to me!

Now I know how a radio feels!

Well, class, it's Friday afternoon.

That means it's time to find out which one of you gets

to take Larry the Lamb home for the weekend.

-(all sigh) -Oh! Oh! Oh!

And don't forget, the lucky student gets to add his or her page

to Larry's personal journal.

Just like Martin did last week.

Ha!

-I want him first! -No, me!

Oh, not that stupid stuffed lamb again.

This isn't learning!

Do you want to learn?

No, no, no. I'm just saying...

This weekend,

Larry will go home with...

Please, God, I need this.

...Bart Simpson.

Oh, cruel irony!

Hey, the only thing I bring home are notes to my parents,

and those do not arrive the way that they left.

Hmm.

Oh, what a nice note!

I'm not sticking my hand in that can again.

You're getting the lamb.

Not so fast.

Tell the diary how special he makes you feel!

More adjectives!

That's an adverb!

Top of the morning, Homer.

Seen the paper?

No, I get my news off the Internet.

Well, sir, it looks like your dad is a quotable notable.

Huh?

That's a... It's funny.

It's poignant...

It actually happened!

My father is interesting?!

The whole world's upside down!

That must mean Cathy is funny.

Nope.

Abe, I never knew you were so full of...

-(speaking Yiddish) -What does that mean?

It's like ,

but with a pinch more

Yep, I may just be

the best known Abraham in history.

So, Abe, what else you got for me?

Hmm, well, let's see.

Ooh, I was working as a shoeshine boy

at Springfield Union Station.

Every Monday, the Tinseltown Starliner would stop

at 1:17 p.m. on its way to Hollywood.

I never rode that train,

but I'd palaver with the movie stars

when they got out to stretch their legs.

Hiya!

But none was more memorable than...

Clark Gable!

Looks like someone has seen my work

as an extra in Du Barry, Woman Of Passion.

I sure have, Mr. Gable.

How come you ain't a star yet?

Maybe my ears are too big. I don't know.

-Hey, what you reading there? -Oh, it's called

Gone with the Wind. You can have it.

It's only got one swear word, and not a very good one.

Gone with the Wind, eh?

Well, let's see: garbage, garbage, my line.

Garbage, garbage, my line.

Atlanta burns, nice dresses. I like it!

Thanks, kid.

Don't tell this story to anyone for 60 years.

"Clark Gable owes me a book.

And he never paid me for the shoeshine.

But his big blue eyes could melt the butter

you kept in your pocket for lunch.

Lunch butter we called it."

How come Grampa never shared those stories with us?

He does all the time.