5/21/2011

You smell like baby powder.

Sheldon: Mathematical. 32-ounce banana smoothie, 16-ounce bladder.

Priya: Oh, Leonard, let the man pee.

Leonard: Oh. Cool. I’ve got a lawyer. And I’ve seen her naked.

Leonard: Top of her class, Cambridge University. Licensed to practice law in three countries. And your face.

Leonard: No offence, but shower sex with you is now the second best thing that’s happened today.

Raj: Greek food on pizza night? This is the most delightfully cruel thing we’ve done to Sheldon since we left that fake message from Stephen Hawking on his voice mail.

Sheldon: This is Greek food? Leonard, you hate Greek food.
Leonard: Not as much as you.

Sheldon: And what a civilisation is the Greeks. They gave us science, democracy and little cubes of charred meat that taste like sweat.

Sheldon: The mean Indian lady tried to make me eat lamb.

Sheldon: Oh, I don’t know if I’m up for an evening talking about rainbows, unicorns and menstrual cramps.
Penny: Okay, suit yourself. We’ll probably be trashing Priya a little.
Sheldon: Shotgun.

Amy: Fair warning, we can get ker-razy.

Bernadette: Last week we smoked cigars and pretended to be dragons.

Bernadette: Amy and Sheldon sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-S-S-I-N-G.
Penny: That’s too many S’s for kissing.
Bernadette: Not if they’re doing it for a long time.

Amy: Oh, blah, blah, blah. Give me some sugar, bestie.

Bernadette: I totally want to see Sheldon dance. I bet he looks like a spider on a hot plate.

Amy: I kissed a girl and I liked it, I hope my boyfriend don’t mind it.
Sheldon: What happened to you?

Amy: What’s rattling around that big bulbous brain of yours?

Sheldon: I understand the alcohol has stirred up whatever it is that makes girls go wild.

Leonard: What are you gonna do, Sheldon, blow up the apartment?
Sheldon: That was my first thought, but all my cool stuff is here.

Sheldon: This computer will send an e-mail to your parents in India saying that you’re in a secret relationship with the whiter-than-marshmallow-fluff Leonard Hofstadter.

Sheldon: Ah, memory impairment; the free prize at the bottom of every vodka bottle!

Sheldon: You’re preaching to the choir, sister.

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