I ate a bunch of yogurt, and a bunch of chili, and now I’m waiting to die.
America needs to get on girth control.
And lo, it came to pass that because people refused to give him Friday or Saturday, the Lord settled for Sunday as his special day, while, of course, sharing it always with football.
“Can we just not make a big deal out of this?” [The God of Relationships raises her insane head -- “Roooaaaarrrrrrr!!!!"] "Why is the insane God a she?" [The God of Gender raises its insane head -- "Roaaaarrr!!!"]
So, walking past women you don’t know and not glancing at them, that’s the way you’re playing it, huh, f’n weirdo.
I kinda know the writer-director of this Netflix show, and he just cut away from a sex scene before showing any nudity, and I may call him and complain.
So, straight out, you don’t like me, is that it? That feels pretty definitive. Oh, it is. Okay. So, we’re totally sure about this, yes? Yes. Cool. Great. I’ll circle back. All good.
I’m not above masturbating to a hot pic of Mary.
I wonder if Mary had big tits? Is that where the phrase, “Holy mother of God!” started?
The look on someone's face at a party, when you casually shred a guru you didn’t know they believe in.
Damn, what kind of shit went down at Camp Lejeune?
Y’all remember when Jesus gave that sermon about watching out for those gd immigrants and liberals?
Pull yourself up by your boob straps!
You can’t lose if you don’t play, am I right! Who’s with me? Non-participation for the win!
Men need a reboot.
I love to heckle Ted talks. “Heard it in college! Yeah, yeah, we're gonna "save the world"! Chomsky already said this!”
There is no worse acting/directing on the planet than people playing racist white southerners in old movies. (I’m watching “In the Heat of the Night.”)
When you cross into Texas there’s a sign on the highway that says, “Welcome to Texas. Maybe.”
Sorry, would love to get involved with that, but I’m doing non-insane shit today.
“Shank Tank.” It’s “Shark Tank,” but in prison, and the winners get to shank the losers.
Your dog is a better person than you’ll ever be.
Battling a mouse. Losing badly. How’s your wednesday?
I need more things at my disposal.
Pandas eat nothing but the dried bones of unicorns. Maybe they should go extinct.
Pandas won’t have sex unless their first cuddled for fourteen hours to the smooth sounds of 1940’s trumpet-centric South American jazz. Maybe they should go extinct.
I believe marriage should be as God intended, a union of two people constantly looking at each other and thinking, “I could’ve done better.”
How about I swoop in, make some bad decisions, then rush out until it’s time to blame you for things not working in your department, sound good?
My tolerance for weird bullshit has shifted.
“Let’s work out together.” “Why, so you can ruin that, too?” [Hits speed dial number for therapist.]
Critical Race Theory is hot.
My new book, “Enemas and Aspirin,” due out soon! Enjoy!
My new book, “How to Have a Baby -- No, Two Babies! -- in Only Nine Minutes,” due out soon! Preorder!
My new book, “Is that Your Face, or Did a Squid Die on Top of Your Neck?” due out soon! Critics be damned!
I go to a different therapist every week, tell them the exact same story, until I get one who says, “Get the fuck out of here, go to a Tijuana whorehouse, and don’t come out until you’re absolutely a perfect man.”
Self-improvement project, I’m learning Chinese. One character every decade. It’s about the journey.
Love at first sight? Not sure. Hate? Oh, an absolute certainty.
All athletes should do the world a favor and major in acting in college, just in case they have to do insurance commercials some day.