There’s cat feces in my Batman costume, and all the lines in my screenplay were snorted by the neighborhood cokehead. Ah, but that’s life, no?
Save money on kids by volume. Deal in bulk and have dozens of kids.
My future, it almost looks like Christmas—red and green—stop and go.
My trash can got stolen five times. Finally the owner just let me have it.
How many seconds does it take to win second? As many as it takes to win first—if you don’t use them properly.
I love body language, because I can speak it without talking, without listening, and while my back is turned.
I tried telling him without telling him, through body language, and I observed he was unobservant.
You may not have said anything, but you’re right—silence is the best response.
This morning I ate a hamburger for breakfast, and then wept like a baby into an open jar of mayonnaise. I guess that’s just the champion in me.
Danger is the most dangerous word, because it encompasses all the dangerous words like gun, killer, etc.
Too much much is a dangerous thing. But not as dangerous as danger itself.
The idea of a blind date scares me. But a deaf date would be great.
Day or night, I can’t see the wind. But at night, it feels like I can see it even less. What’s less visible than invisible?
I am Vigalig the Destroyer. Except during the day, and then I am Gigalig the Giggler.
Did I hear that right? Did someone say ice cream? It’s an odd thing to say in the middle of a eulogy, but hell yes, I could go for some ice cream. We could take a break, because it’s not like this guy won’t still be dead in a half an hour.
My mom and dad died, but in their place I got a house of fog that’s easy to hide my feelings in. (No smoking, please.)
Me: On time. Women: Late. Death: Early.
You may be dying, but I’m going to have a picnic and enjoy this glorious day. I won’t let your impending death spoil my afternoon.
You are dead. It just hasn’t occurred to you yet.
Death is like bedtime—we all want to put it off until tomorrow. But when you’re going to bed, I’m just getting up, Lazarus style.
Why do old people drive slow? They have the least amount of time left on earth, so you’d think they’d drive the fastest, to make the best use of what little time they have.
