Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

You're not gonna do that because the kids will end up in foster care.
[GROANING, CRYING]
and I just...
- After that, you're on your own. - Mm-hmm.
I don't know, but we shouldn't laugh.
- All right. - Ah...
I'm not your fucking punching bag!
ANSWERING MACHINE: Hey, this is Dale. Leave a message... or don't.
Mom!
Can you make a right up here?
[MOLLY SHIVERING]
Do I have to spell it out for you?
No. How could I possibly forget it?
COACH: Did you know that
Coach Miller.
so why don't you kiss my ass?
your grandmother's.
You look like shit. You should really chill.
It's always what she said since she was a teenager.
The blue Caribbean and the pearl green...
Oh, my God. You look good.
I should call the police on him right now.
- I am not grumpy. - He farts a lot.
That was you.
Just get in the car!
Mom, you suck. You totally suck.
I'm not going to let myself stab it into my chest.
for maybe like a week or maybe even more.
And even after all, I put you through,
[WOMAN CRYING]
You should do four more to be safe.
Oh, and he has a girlfriend.
whenever she's around. Have you noticed that?
No. I'll pick you up in three days.
make her tummy hurt.
Kiddo.
[GROANS]
- He's gonna take good care of you, all right? - Thank you.
We'll pick up tampons on the way. Okay?
Yeah. Tough neighborhood.
DEB: Mm-hmm.
- [GRUNTS] - But, ma'am, she has to sign herself.
Why am I freaking out?
I don't know.
How am I supposed to get better
[KNOCKING ON DOOR]
Look, I, I am not going to make it to Monday if I stay here.
Toothless.
Probably not.
Why not? That'd make me feel good.
It's just that, uh...
Because maybe, the moment her father's sperm reached your egg,
How are the kids?
Or any job skills or a dollar to my name.
It's the alarm.
She warned me at the clinic.
Beds open up every day.
Oh, my God.
If now's a bad time,
The way it is for kids,
Twelve-steps therapy, all of it.
I can get the shot.
You know, I do not do well when I'm left on my own
and I can do that here. [CRYING]
Is it fucking safe? Oh, God.
Freshman year.
SEAN: You all right?
Hi!
I said I can't keep pills at the house.
- Bye, baby. - CHLOE: Bye.
I am so sorry
Who?
Yeah, sure.
- Greg, that's my mom. Stop! - What? What?
I moved over to Lincoln last year.
- Uh, boom! You got got. - Oh... no.
You think I fucking give a shit?
Medicaid pays for three nights.