Leonard: Raj, come on. You fall in love with any girl who smiles at you. A month ago, you were writing poems about his fiancee.
Howard: I'm sorry. What?
Raj: Rubbish. He's talking rubbish.
Leonard: Oh, Bernadette, please play my clarinet.
Raj: That could have been about anyone. Besides, you have nothing to worry about, because now I'm the dusky half of Koothrapenny.