The way I see it, the difference between farmers and suburbanites is the difference in the way we feel about dirt. To them, the earth is something to be respected and preserved, but dirt gets no respect. A farmer likes dirt. Suburbanites like to get ...
To my way of thinking, there is every bit as much evidence for the existence of UFOs as there is for the existence of God. Probably far more. At least in the case of UFOs there have been countless taped and filmed and, by the way, unexplained sightin...
Afterwards, in bed with a book, the spell of television feels remote compared to the journey into the page. To be in a book. To slip into the crease where two pages meet, to live in the place where your eyes alight upon the words to ignite a world of...
Like any normal fifth grader, I preferred my villains to be evil and stay that way, to act like Dracula rather than Frankenstein's monster, who ruined everything by handing that peasant girl a flower. He sort of made up for it by drowning her a few m...
Innumerable conditions must be exquisitely optimized for the support of humanity and of civilization. Many of them are highly time variable. Evidence showing that a wide variety of independent conditions all reached optimality during the identical na...
Too many scholars think of research as purely a cerebral pursuit. If we do nothing with the knowledge we gain, then we have wasted our study. Books can store information better than we can--what we we do that books cannot is interpret. So if one is n...
At my last birthday party I had fun and really let myself go. Literally. I opened the cages where I keep my clones and I let myself go, all 333 versions of myself.
The last time somebody pointed out that cowboys ride horses, not tricycles, I shot him. Of course, I waited until another gunslinger gunned him down, but nevertheless, I still shot him.
He offered to pay me in agriculture, and I said I didn’t want that, I want money. I told him agriculture won’t put food on my table.
I keep an outfit of my baby clothes on a hanger in my closet. It hangs there like a heretical, anorexic midget. I do this to increase my chances of getting laid (wet baloney is the key to better love making).
A man with six fingers on one hand who gets his finger cutoff by the mafia probably doesn’t feel pain, fear, or anger. No, that man probably feels normal.
Good art is like a sexy pair of lips—it has the potential to say so much, but prefers to have you do all the talking about it. Also, good art is fun to kiss and make out with (especially statues and portraits).
Rembrandt painted portraits, The Karate Kid painted fences, and I paint my toenails. But I’m not a snob, I still consider those other two guys to be artists.
From the ages of 8-18, me and my family moved around a lot. Mostly we would just stretch, but occasionally one of us would actually get up to go to the fridge.
I don’t shower because water is the most corrosive element. Ever seen what it does to rock? I want a chiseled body, but I don’t want it to look like the Grand Canyon.
If I were facing a firing squad, I’d ask them to hold on just one second, because I have a wedgie and it is very uncomfortable. Let me adjust myself, and then you can shoot me.
In a depression, attendance to sporting events goes down, while the percentage of people fornicating goes up, because sex is free. I know, some of you are probably thinking, Free! Where do I find those hookers?!
On the subject of how to make friends, I would give you some tips, but I just don’t have any. Oh, I have plenty of tips, but I don’t have any friends.
Only a friend or a giraffe would stick his neck out for you. But only a giraffe would eat all the leaves off your tree so he could peek in your second story bedroom window.
People always ask me if I’m into sports, and I say, “Well, isn’t writing a sport? If you’re doing it right, and you have a deadline, you should be sweating.
My wife told me she’d meet me at the mall, and I said, “Don’t be silly. We’ve already met. What, do you think I’d marry a stranger?
