After Jimbo claimed that “the mummy’s ready for his mystical journey!”, the bullies pushed the cart with Milhouse inside down a very steep hill. …

I don’t know why I get such a mental hardon for guitars. Last sunday my bass guitar was sitting in a different place and the sun was shining on its strings. I kept looking at it, think that I wanted to play it but then when I did eventually pick it up it wasn’t really the way I thought it’d be.
The other day I was having a nap after work and dreamt about this guitar that had 36 strings — 6 strings where there is normally one. The strings were very fine and the head split into two to cope with the number of tuning twiddlers.