Ma femme est une actrice

-Stop fucking around.

- Not at all.

I catch you writing sex...
Like when I'm in London
you won't imagine...

You're so lucky.
I love that actor.

-That doofus?
- He's great!

I can't talk to you.
- He's fabulous.
- He's bald.

Calm down, honey.
We're going to be auntie and uncle!.
What's this "auntie" business?
What do you say? Aunt?
Don't start.
-A good uncle would say quit smoking.
-After I defend you!

He's right. You should quit.
Enough. Now I feel guilty.
-You should.

You always feel guilty.
You're more Jewish
than your brother.

What's that mean?
What's that?
Guilty, Jewish...
They married? Why are we guilty?

I didn't say that.
You always bring up Jews.
Someone always does.

50 tables here,
all burning to talk of Jews.

Something wrong?
-See, her problem...
- It's your problem!

Just like with the names!
Could we have an autograph?
He likes Jean, Jules.
It's a boy? You know?
We don't know yet. But...
I like Abraham.
That's your right.
I just hope he's not born
with a beard.

She likes Moses, too.
It's virile. Moses is virile.
Where are you going?
- Bathroom. Am I allowed?

Ten quarts of water
a day for her figure!

- Don't like my figure?
-Sure I do.

These autographs get to you?
Get to me? Drives me fucking nuts!
She's nuts. So am I
for putting up with it. But how long?