Bob Kelso

— I know that the very idea of you doing a favor for me makes those ass cheeks clench up so tight that you could shovea lump of coal up there and probably crap out a diamond! Right? Ohh.... Come on, Bob, I can't even remember the last time I saw my son, and you — you — you're a father, for God's sake, you understand, don't you?
— My son was recently kicked out of his Hari Krishna sect for being too much of a hippie, and is currently residing in the Portland subway system. The point, Perry, is that the only thing I care less about than my son... is your son. Have fun at the Big House.

— Ah, new janitor uniforms, top priority. Right up there with silk jamies for the patients and a cat door for the I. C. U.
— I made some sketches.
— This one has a cape!
— Well, it gives me the option of fighting crime. Yeah, after work, of course. Now, this one... has sort of a medieval thing going.
— That's you on a horse?
— This is a steed, sir. That's for cleanup in outer space. This one is...outer space...evening wear. This one's just a kangaroo. Sometimes I draw kangaroos.

— Y'know, sir, Dr. Townshend was telling me you had some great old stories about the hospital. I'd love to hear one sometime.
— Well, what the hell. Back in '68... I don't like you. The end.
— He tells that one a lot.
— I know.

It's a hip-hop world, son. Keep up or get out of the way.

— Perry, I am sick and tired of listening to people complain about being called fatties, boozers, losers, winos, tubbos, tokers, smokers, and jamokers, whatever the hell jamokers means.
— I was saying «jokers» and I had coffee cake in my mouth.
— Unlike my masseuse Frida, you're not pretty enough to be rough.

— Dr Weisenheimer's back. How was your ski trip?
— I'm confused.
— You annoy me.
— Now I get it.

Plus, I have forgotten more about medicine than you two will ever know.

— At least you've stopped crying.
— No, not really. My body can't produce tears anymore. I've intentionally dehydrated myself. It's a risky move, I know, but Dr. Jarvis here said it'll be all right.
— There's nobody standing behind you.
— I'm going to need an IV.

— Why aren't you taking the job, Perry?
— You said it was a bureaucratic nightmare. And I don't want to be miserable.
— You love being miserable.
— I don't want everyone to hate me.
— Everybody already hates you. You wanna know the real reason why you don't want the gig, champ? Because you're a fraidy-cat.
— Beg your pardon?
— Didn't you hear me? Are fraidy-cat's ears too tiny?
— Don't push me, Bob.
— You're right. I'm sorry. Would it make you feel any better to bat this around for a while?

— Well, Bob, your employees really stood by you. They pointed out to the board that... Well, you run a tight ship, and actually we'd like you to stay on.
— Girls, thank you for saving my job. The one thing I wanted was to end things on my own terms, and since you're letting me, you can shove it up your ass, Rodney. I'm out of here.

...if you do not get to the point where you have the courage to take risks, you will never be a great doctor.

— I am gonna let Big Bob here give the first excuse.
— Blah, blah, blah. I'm not doing it.
— I'm caught on his collar!

Marriage is a lifelong battle, except we men have been given no weapons.

— Who the hell ate my scone?
— That would be me. It was delicious. My compliments to the little lady.
— I made those.
— I know.

— I need your opinion about something.
— Those pants make you look like you're holding water.

— You know, it wouldn't hurt you to make some noise around here.
— How's this? Blow it out your ass, Bob.