The Simpsons S19E11 - That '90s Show -
Dad, I'm freezing.
Don't worry, kids.
These wool socks and down parkas will keep you warm.
We wouldn't be in this trouble if you'd just
paid the heating bill!
I thought global warming would take care of it.
Al Gore can't do anything right.
I got some old magazines to burn.
Popular Science.
Redbook.
Big & Tall Halloween Costume catalogue.
Next item.
No!!!!!
Mom, I didn't know you went to college!
Yeah, you always said that after high school,
Dad "blessed" you with the unplanned miracle of me.
Hey, parents are allowed to keep some secrets.
Like which kid's their favorite!
It's Lisa.
You know, Mom and Dad are almost 40, and Bart is ten.
That means you didn't have him until way after high school.
Yeah, what happened while I was chillin' in Dad's junk?
There is a part of our past that
we haven't told you kids about.
A turbulent part.
Come on. More turbulent than now?
We're in every kind of therapy.
Things happened between your mother and me that we're not proud of.
It was the middle of a wild decade known as the 1990s.
The '90s? Never heard of it.
Oh, it was a wonderful time.
The Iraq war was over once and for all,
a struggling Matt Groening created Futurama,
and young people believed in their dreams,
thanks to a TV show called Melrose Place.
Your mother and I were dating,
and we had just moved into
our first apartment together.
Luann, a picture of you cheating on me
is downloading onto my computer.
I'll know who you were with in less than six hours!
Unless someone picks up the phone.
No, no, no, no! Oh!
We didn't have a lot of money,
but we were young and in love.
Oh!
I'm afraid it's Top Ramen again.
With you, baby,
Top Ramen tastes like Cup O' Noodles.
You know, these IKEA foam futons do Velcro together.
Uh, I-I'm sorry.
I'm not ready to do that yet.
I want to wait until I'm married,
or at least really drunk.
I understand.
We should follow the lead of today's celebrity role models.
Sonic The hedghog says "Wait until marriage".
Like all young people,
I had a musical dream,
a dream called inoffensive urban light
hip-hop smooth grooves.
Okay, everyone, let's warm up our harmonies.
Homer
Lenny
Carl
Lou the Cop
I'll make rub to you Show respect for you
Hug so safe and strong Backrub all night long !
I'll make rub to you!
But our happiness was about to unravel
just like Kevin Costner's career:
because of the postman.
You applied to college?
Why didn't you tell me?
I did tell you.
I thought you were telling me you wanted
to apply yourself to making a collage.
And as I recall, I was against it.
I can't believe I got in.
It's like a dream come true.
An expensive dream.
Oh, baby, you deserve every last bit of it!
I can get the money,
but it'll mean swallowing my pride and working for...
my dad!
Well, Well, Well,
look who's come crawling back to work for your old man.
What do you need the money for?
Medicine?
None of your business.
Now give me a job at your business.
You're dead!
Die! Die! Die!
Suck my beam!
Okay, all right! Time's up!
This counts as your break.
But Marge's education was worth
all the pistol-whipping in the world.
This place is just like the brochure:
Autumn leaves.
Bull sessions.
And that is why
The Lord of the Rings can never be filmed.
Fraternity pledges in their beanies.
I think I'm gonna like it here.
So, have you all bought the required textbooks for this class?
Good.
Now throw them all away!
Everything you think you know about history is a lie.
For example: the Founding Fathers.
What did they have in common?
They defied a king?
They created a system of checks and balances?
Wrong!
They were all white, Protestant, property-owning males.
Evil
Are you saying that America was founded on misconceptions?
Who said that?
That is exactly what I'm saying.
Fall semester, you just got interesting.
The bridges of Madison county.
This book sucks so much.
Homie, my mind has been opened in so many ways!
Did you know that every US president
has been a straight white man?
Even Walt Disney?
And did you also know that history is written by the winners?
Really?
I thought it was written by losers.
If you think that,
you should meet my new professor.
Professor August has shown me a side of the world I never knew.
Professor August, eh?
Who is he, somegray-haired old bookworm?
Uh, not exactly.
Marge,
I hope I'll be seeing you tomorrow during office hours.
Uh, 3:00 to 5:00, right?
If my beads are parted, come right in.
I will!
To the faculty club!
I never heard that noise before.
Are you sick?
Hmm. I wonder what's on your mind.
Okay, I relate your pilot light.
Now I just need to do a little work on the thermostat.
Would you like me to tell you a story while I work?
One about a woman I loved and lost?
We're in the middle of our own story, thank you.
Right. No one wants to hear about the gasman's girl.
"Just shut up, monkey man, and make the gas flow. "
Anyway, I was growing to admire
my professor more and more.
...so that's why instead of "X-X",
I think of the female genes in a more positive light...
Plus-Plus.
Professor, do you think white male scientists
have marginalized the contributions of the Third World?
Great question.
And the answer is "of course."
Could a tribe of bushmen have invented penicillin?
Maybe they already have.
But no one asked them.
No one asked them.
Oh, Elaine, will you ever find someone who's sponge-worthy?
Professor August says the situation comedy is a doomed genre.
Here's what I say to that:
no soup for you!
Because I am "master of my domain".
Newman.
I wish you would support my comments.
Hey, I worked hard all day to pay for your education.
Can't I get all Zima'd up and have
my best girl put salve on my laser burns?
Are the lasers supposed to burn you?
Apparently if all the kids fire
at your stomach at once, it adds up.
Closing time open all the doors
and let you out into the world...
Marge, your art project for "protest studies" is very impressive.
Thank you, Professor August.
Oh, please, I'm your advisor.
Call me Steffan.
Oh, thanks.
It-it's just a note from my boyfriend.
Let me guess:
he's a high school flame
who's preventing you from flowering.
Homer's perfect for me!
Just look at this note:
"I miss you". Aww.
Actually, Marge, if I may deconstruct that letter.
When he writes "I miss you,"
"I" is the subject and "you" is the object.
You are his object.
But Homer's so supportive.
He's paying for me to go to college.
He's paying for you?
Like he owns you?
I'm sorry, but that is oppression.
Well, I know you'd never say anything that isn't objective...
Marge, your assignment is to think about
what I've said about your relationship.
When is it due?
Before it's too late.
Steffan!
Marge! Marge!
Where are you?!
Are you by that Joan Miro Statue?
lt's "Juan" Miro!
Stupid townie!
Hey, it's townies like me that cook your food and
clean your bathrooms!
If you did the former better we'd use the latter less.
That's it, townie!
Run!
Run back to your town!
Marge, this dreamcatcher was given to me by a warrior
of the Lakopane tribe, a tribe ruled by women.
I think it has already caught my dream.
What the hell is going on here?
Chanting?!
Homer! You're embarrassing me!
Marge, what are you doing in this crazy college?
This place is nothing like Animal House!
I smashed a beatnik's guitar and he sued me for damages!
Successfully!
Homie, go home.
We'll talk about this later.
Fine!
Slam!
I can't do it!
Our harmony-laden R&B doesn't
make sense in this cruel world.
I'm taking our music to the next level:
Guitar Rock Utilizing Nihilist Grunge Energies.
Or, as I call it: Grunge!
We are Sadgasm,
and this song is called...
"Politically Incorrect."
Pain is brown
Hate is white
Love is black
Stab the night
Kingdom of numb
Closet of hurt
Feelings are dumb
Kisses are dirt...
Kurt? Kurt?
It's Marvin!
Your cousin, Marvin Cobain!
You know that new sound you're looking for?
Well, listen to this!
Marge! Marge!
Hey, Marge.
Homer, your music is so angry and bitter.
Now why would I be angry and bitter?
Because I'm paying for you to make goo-goo eyes
at some smooth-talking professor?
Well, here's a question for you:
why should I stay with a man who resents how I've flowered?
Well, if you feel that way maybe you can find
someone who wants to nurture the new you,
maybe someone a little older and more sophisticated,
who can take you to Europe during the summer.
- Fine by me. - D'oh!
Hey. Will you sign my boobs?
Yeah.
Marge come back.
Mom, why did you stop talking for two and a half minutes?
It seemed like 20.
Whatever.
Homer and I had the wrenching task
of dividing up a shared life.
Okay, I'll keep the LPs, and you take the CDs.
I'll take the typewriter; you take the computer.
I'll take the Enron stock; you take the Microsoft stock.
And, um...
Who gets... Cutie-puss?
I just want a tentacle.
I was so depressed,
I spent all my time in a bar.
Gimme a beer, Moe.
I don't sell booze no more.
This is a cigar bar now.
Fine. Cohiba me.
Leave the humidor.
I don't feel so good.
I wasn't trying to steal your watch.
I-I was just comin' on to ya.
Okay, let's go back to my place.
Oh, boy.
Ready to take my personal tour of Springfield's
most wheelchair-unfriendly restaurants?
I sure am!
I want your knowledge inside me.
Seeing Marge always reminds me of Marge.
Now where will I get my oxygen?
Razorblade of apathy
Shave me with your irony
Shave me!
Have you really read all of these books?
Morally, I couldn't display them on shelves if I hadn't.
But I watch sports as well,
just like a regular man.
Good Goddess!
The Patriots deep in Redskin territory.
This isn't entertainment;
it's genocide!
Why don't we put on some music?
Shave me!
No! No!
I need whale songs!
Oceans of the sea
Marge, may I compliment your appearance?
Yeah, sure.
You look lovely.
If I were to approach you for a kiss,
would you construe that as harassment
or give your willing consent?
Consent, of course.
Ah. Continuing in that line of thought,
may I kiss your mouth with my mouth?
Just do it already!
I had finally realized every rock star's dream:
hating being famous.
Why aren't I happy?
I'm the hottest grunge artist on Mucous Records.
Weird Al is doing a parody of my song.
Raisin bread with applesauce
Tony Danza, he's the boss
Brain freeze!
He who is tired of Weird Al is tired of life.
Look at that lighthouse.
That's the ultimate expression of phallocentric technocracy,
violating Mother Sky.
I thought they were just tall so boats could see them.
No, Marge.
Everything penis-shaped is bad.
Look, a wedding!
Slavery is alive and well in Springfield.
You oppose marriage?
Marge, marriage has oppressed women for centuries.
But, Steffan,
I would like to get married someday.
Oh, Marge, it's statements like that make people say women are stupid.
It's statements like that that...
are mean!
Well, it may sound mean,
but I'm just trying to help you evolve.
Oh, evolve yourself, Professor Jerk!
Or should I say, Associate Professor Jerk!
I only got denied tenure because my department head is an idiot!
Der, duh, what did you say about me?
I'm sorry, Professor Moose.
You're about to get your PhD...
Pound Head Down.
Spread yellow gunk on my pancake heart
Country-churned girl in my grocery cart...
Could he be singing about me ?
He is!
I paid for her dreams
She taught me to cry
Like watery knives
Like rain from my eyes
I can't believe you're not mine
Mar-ge-rine
Mar-ge-rine!
He loves me so much after what I did to him.
We interrupt this "Bleak Block" to bring you a breaking story.
Grunge trailblazer Sadgasm have broken up.
Reclusive front man Homer Simpson has
holed himself up in his mansion, as rumors swirled
about an out-of-control narcotics addiction.
This is Kurt Loder reporting from...
the '90s.
No, narcotics!
Oh, my God, you're a junkie!
I need it...
I'm getting you off this stuff.
But I need it!
No, you don't!
Unfortunately, as I later learned,
that wasn't heroin.
It was insulin.
Homer really did need those injections.
I had become diabetic from drinking too many Frappuccinos.
Homie, I got so caught up in the world of college
that I forgot how important your love was.
Can you find it in your heart to take me back?
Of course.
The thing that stood between us the '90s is almost over.
You're right.
But I'm worried about what's on the horizon:
reality shows, Britney Spears,
the suspicious number of home runs being hit...
At least we know there'll never be a president worse than Bill Clinton.
Imagine, lying in a deposition in a civil lawsuit.
That's the worst sin a president could commit.
There'll never be a worse president.
Never.
With the '90s drawing to a close,
and the Sydney Olympics to look forward to,
our love rekindled.
And one moonlight night,
I finally had fun at a mini-golf course.
Homer, stop!
You don't have to tell the kids everything!
What did I miss? How did it end?
You two ever get back together?
Yep, that professor couldn't keep me and Marge apart.
I mean, unless he had been a little nicer at the beach.
Well, that professor did teach me one good lesson:
Homie is where my heart is.
And once we were back together,
I was to happy ever to grunge again.
Townies.