Cliff: Hey, Norm, we haven't heard much lately about your quest to sire an heir for the old throne. So how goeth the baby-making?
Norm: Not good. Vera thinks it's my fault she's not pregnant. Says I'm not trying hard enough.
Cliff: Well, I hope before you answered intemperately, you took into account her frustration in the maternal instinct department.
Norm: No, I said, "Drop dead in a ditch."
Cliff: Perfect.
Norm: I used to think that sleeping was the greatest pleasure you could have in bed. Now I'm sure of it.
Larry: Hey, Norm, what's the matter? Why don't you like having sex with your wife?
Norm: We're not exactly what each other wants in a sexual partner, you know. For example, she wishes I looked a little more like Charles Bronson. And I wish she looked a little less like Charles Bronson.