Original subtitles

♪ The Simpsons ♪

_

Maybe 43 is the year I change my hairstyle.

No, I don't have that kind of courage.

Breakfast me now.

I want to escape before the hormone twins come down.

Bart and Lisa are teenagers now,

and they've got a lot of confusing feelings.

Feelings I can handle. It's the sounds and the smells that are breaking me.

How's the wedding speech coming?

Stupid Flanders never should have asked me to be his best man.

Do you think this joke is too mean?

Yes!

Then it's going in.

Good morning. How'd you sleep?

None of my clothes fit, and I'm breaking out.

I am not going to school.

You're in eighth grade. If your face was normal, you'd stand out.

Honey, the changes we go through as women are beautiful

and should be celebrated with joy and gratitude as the gifts they are.

You're delusional.

More food. Where is?

I just went shopping yesterday. I can't keep up with your appetite.

There's chili in the earthquake kit.

Let me. Happy to help, little big brother.

- I'm driving to school today. - Mmm?

How am I gonna learn not to kill people if you don't let me practice?

Maggie, Maggie, rest your voice. You're still getting over that laryngitis.

Please. Don't let Bart drive. It's too scary.

He drives so wiggly and everybody honks at us

and yells bad words and shows us fingers!

♪ And while she lay there sleeping ♪

♪ I read the paper in bed ♪

Lisa, we used to love this song.

We'd dance around and have the best time. Remember?

Remember, remember, remember, remember?

♪ If you like piña col... ♪

Mom, no.

Why'd you volunteer me to perform at Mr. Flanders's wedding?

Why would I ever want to do that? Why?

Well, your father's the best man,

Bart's the videographer, and Maggie's the flower girl.

Besides, you used to love performing.

Oh, you were so sweet and confident.

I did, and I was, but I'm not, so I won't.

I do not want a thousand eyeballs staring at me.

Lisa, wait. I forgot to give you this

in case you get your first... period.

Eyeballs.

- _ - Oh.

It'll be nice to spend time with people

whose hormones aren't completely wackadoodle.

Wackadoodle. My hormones are wackadoodle.

As our last eggs circle the drain, let's raise a glass to the big change.

Menopause? Aren't we all a little young for that?

Perimenopause, Marge.

The coming attractions before the horror movie that is the big M.

Don't tell me you haven't had any of the symptoms. Hot flashes...

Mood swings.

You know, I wake up at exactly 3:17 every night. Why 3:17?

I know.

And then I can't help but compulsively rearrange the furniture.

You know, last night, I created a workstation for the dog.

If we can't turn these middle-aged frowns upside down,

let's fill them in with a syringe full of youth.

Heroin. I've heard it's amazing, but I'm not sure it's for me.

They're facial fillers, Marge.

Use these to mark the parts of your face you hate.

Black don't crack, but it sure can droop.

I just don't think our faces are something we need to fix.

Let's celebrate the wisdom and achievements

that are the story our wrinkles tell.

I'll see myself out.

Mmm?

Homer. Homer, wake up.

"Hamnesia" is when you can't remember ham!

This graphic novel Bart's been reading is practically a tingle book.

Is it normal for a boy to look at bunnies with big boobs?

Little boys will stare at a rock if it's got big boobs.

Ooh. Look, a rock with big boobs.

Why would a lady robot need to wear a skirt?

And does it have to be so short?

Oh, honey, in the grand scheme of things this is pretty innocent.

He could be online watching live-action romance content.

Shut your muzzle mouth!

Sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me.

My emotions are suddenly all haywire.

Sounds like it's probably nothing.

Top of the morning, best man-arino.

Hey, Homer. How's the speech coming?

Really great, Pam.

But if you have any embarrassing Flanders stories

to make this savage takedown even more brutal, I'm all ears.

Well, the best story is how he saved my life when I choked

on a baby in a king cake during Mardi Gras.

Choke play at cake party. Perfect.

He sure is.

Stupid happy, future Flanders.

My wife is where? I'm on my way!

Honey, the manager says you've been in the freezer for a half hour.

I'm burning up. I think it's my first hot flash.

Insomnia, the compulsive redecorating.

I think it's perimenopause.

Homer, I'm old.

Wow. Say something perfect.

High five?

Can't sleep anymore. Can't think straight. Always irritable.

Kitchen couch!

You finally get me.

I'm driving to school today.

Got another zit. I'm going to live under a troll bridge.

I'm a flower girl, and I want special shoes.

Pink with bows and lights and music.

Everyone shut your breakfast holes!

...run over a bunch of nuns...

Homer, your wife is going through the terrible change of perimeningitis,

so it's down to you to be the voice of non-crazy.

This is where years of therapy mumbo jumbo pays off.

- Emotional dysregulation. - Huh.

- Feelings. - Oh.

- Validation. - Oh.

Crystals.

And a tiny gong on the bookshelf.

I don't know why that worked, but it kind of did.

Maybe it's just the soothing tone.

That's like half of it, isn't it?

I know this is a long shot, but do you have these shoes my daughter wants?

Oh. Wow.

Uh. Lady, these shoes don't exist.

These Skoochers are a revelation. Skooch on, skooch off. Skooch on, skooch off.

Marge Simpson? My old crush/obsession/problematic fixation.

Artie, now is not the time to hit on me.

Hmm.

Not a problem.

For the first time in my life, the sight of your face has left me un-smitten.

Do I see the flawless young girl

whose dental hygienist I bribed for a Dixie cup of her saliva?

I do not!

Oh. I guess that's a good thing.

I feel nothing, I tell you.

Maybe it's these super cushiony shoes,

or maybe it's the teeny-tiny frown line I detect between your eyes.

But I feel liberated.

Skip with me, salesgirl, skip with me.

Whee! Whee!

I'm in. Give me the Botox. I want everything shiny and plumped.

You'll notice that my face does not look surprised.

I can feel all the character being erased. I love it.

Mom, what the hell?

What happened to, "The changes we go through as women

are beautiful and should be celebrated with joy and gratitude"?

How could you understand?

You're young, and you're chock-full of collagen.

Mother, I am covered in zits.

Acne is just a phase. It's like the story of the ugly duckling.

Some ugly ducklings just grow up to be ugly ducks.

Mom, have you seen my mustache comb?

Don't you take that tone with me, young lady!

Oh, no, I'm sorry.

What tone did you take when you found out your mother was a raging hypocrite?

Just because I said one thing and did the opposite, that makes me a hypocrite?

Emotional truths being shared. For which I am gratitude.

May I trigger you with some organic matcha?

Why don't we end the session here, and we'll pick up next time?

Now, let's sort you two out.

Grab some sofa, you guys.

Picking up where we left off last week...

Snowball, you were upset

that Santa's Little Helper gave you an ultimatum.

I found something.

- More manga? - No, this.

Adult live-action romance content.

Our son is ruined. Childhood over.

Innocence gone.

He's going to grow up to be an incel or a sexist jerk or a manosphere guru.

I'm sorry the world is a horrible, ugly place

in which no child should grow up.

But I promise when Bart finally likes a real girl,

he'll be just as nervous and sweet and respectful as I was when I met you.

What do we do? What do we do?

Pretending it's not happening has worked for generations of parents.

I'm confiscating every screen in this house.

No more Internet for you.

What? Why?

You know why.

Okay, bye.

Okay, this is handled. I handled it. Everything's good.

You've gotta help me.

I'm a calm, happy person trapped in the body of a crazy lady.

Oh, I'm sorry.

There's just not much research into health issues that only affect women.

My med school professor called menopause an esoteric mystery.

There's got to be something you can give me.

Rub this hormone cream on your thighs. Can't hurt.

Unless... No, no, it can't hurt.

And there is one more thing I can prescribe.

Sometimes laughter is the best medicine.

♪ Good-bye to my purpose ♪

♪ Good-bye to my meaning ♪

- So true. - Funny and brave.

Surprise!

You replaced the fridge?

Is that what we do now when something gets old?

Just toss it out in the street?

It's a smart fridge. I got it to make your life easier.

The next time the teenage eating machine cleans us out,

this thing will order groceries delivered right to our door.

Frozen pizza, frozen burritos. It knows all the crap we eat.

And what's in this bag?

Maggie's impossible-to-find shoes.

I know I haven't been myself lately,

but you've done something I never expected...

pitched in.

Next time I'll get you a smart stove...

then a smart blender...

to make smart smoothies...

out of intelligent bananas.

Oh, Homie.

Hey, Homie, seems like nothing's really happening down there.

I didn't even know it couldn't do that. Well, no need to panic.

_

Mmm.

Move, people. We're not losing another erection today.

Fortunately for you, Big Pharma,

which is largely run by old men on their third wives,

has poured billions into ED research.

We have a mighty arsenal of treatment options at our disposal.

Now, Homer, these ED meds will adversely affect your mood,

causing aggression, irresponsibility,

and a tendency for your mouth to write checks your ass can't cash.

With all the hormonal changes going on in the house,

you're the only one keeping things together.

Maybe we should think about this.

Men's sexual health is no time for thinking.

Shoot me up, doc.

I already am.

Oh? Mmm.

I got the testosterone of a 20-year-old and the patience of a 12-year-old.

Get the hell off my kitchen couch.

Make me, Jabba the Butt.

Shut up, you little perv.

Homer, calm down.

I medically can't.

Hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite.

Get off my couch.

Get your pervy self and your pervy germs off of it.

- Get off of it... - Leave me alone.

- ...contaminated with... - I can't believe anything you say.

Oh, shut up! Ah!

Hurry up and eat your half-assed breakfasts.

We're not going to be late for Mr. Flanders's wedding.

I cannot perform in front of people with all this going on.

You look fine. Don't be so dramatic.

Maybe I'd look better with a face full of Botox.

Oh, I am so sorry. I'm struggling to deal with the humongous life change.

Oh. I handled it just fine.

Handled what?

My period. I got it last week.

You got your first period, and you didn't tell me. Why?

Because you make womanhood seem like the most miserable thing

that could happen to a person.

But don't worry about it.

Coach Krupt was very helpful.

Bombardment of feelings. Bombardment of transitions.

Bombardment of we're all here for you.

She didn't tell me. I'm a failure as a mother.

All right, let's move.

I got a best man speech to crush. What's the fastest way to the church?

I have no idea. Mom confiscated every screen in the house.

Well, the smart fridge has Internet access, so...

Let's get to that wedding, people. Go, go, go.

What did you do, Bart?

Hmm.

Mom, trust me. You don't want to do this.

_

- Bart! - You dog.

Hyah!

Die, die, die, die!

Ooh. Get in the car. It's time to celebrate love.

Stupid car.

Why won't you start?

I don't think either one of you is in any condition to drive.

I can drive! I can do anything!

- No, not Bart! - If we die, we die.

Look out for the...

Don't hit the...

Go straight, go straight.

Oh. I forgot my flower basket.

Here, use these.

Aw.

Aw.

I have to give my best man speech,

but I can't focus no matter how much testosterone I shoot up.

Give me some estrogen cream to balance me out, please.

I'm so mad and sexy.

Mmm.

Well, well, well, the day has finally come.

The long-suffering neighbor has a chance to even the score.

Hope what you're about to hear doesn't give you second thoughts, Pam.

Oh!

Whoa! That lady cream works fast.

Anyway, I was about to roast this... this beautiful, wonderful man.

Aw.

He's such a good neighborino.

He lets me borrow stuff, and he loves Jesus so much.

And despite all that, he's my favorite person in the entire world.

Aw!

Hi, I'm Bart. I drove here in a car that I drove.

I'm Carrie. The bride is my sister. We took a limo.

Wow. You were in a car. I'm in a car...

- Ned, can I borrow Homer? - Would you, please?

Homer, look.

Bart's talking to a girl, and he's terrible at it.

He's not an unsalvageable Internet monster.

He's just as sweet and awkward and clueless as you were.

Chicks are gonna walk all over him.

That's all I want.

Are you sure you don't want to sit with the unreal housewives?

Honey, I'm sorry I made womanhood seem so horrible.

It's not that bad. You get used to it.

Besides, without it, I wouldn't be your mom,

so it's pretty great.

Anyway, if you don't wanna get up on stage, you don't have to.

I don't? Oh, thank God.

Ooh. Hot flash coming in like a locomotive full of soup.

I need my medicine back.

You used it all?

I have no memory of the last two hours.

Excuse me, excuse me?

Ooh, boy. That's a lot of eyeballs.

Uh. Mr. Flanders asked me to perform the song "Perfect" by Ed Sheeran.

I love that song.

But I'm not gonna do that one.

- Crap. - This one's for us, Mom.

♪ I was tired of my lady ♪

♪ We'd been together too long ♪

A song about having an affair is a weird choice for a wedding.

I think it's perfect.

♪ So while she lay there sleeping ♪

♪ I read the paper in bed ♪

♪ And in the personal columns ♪

♪ There was this letter I read ♪

♪ If you like piña coladas ♪

♪ And gettin' caught in the rain ♪

♪ If you're not into yoga ♪

♪ If you have half a brain ♪

Shh!

- synced and corrected by sot26 - www.addic7ed.com