I wrote this book to make a compilation of old work I've written, and because the Lord told me to.

I was driving to work the other day, when a horrible thought occurred to me - what if life really isn’t nothing but a funny, funny riddle? I’d feel kind of foolish. But if life aint nothing but a funny, funny riddle, thank God I’m on Percadans.

Opinions are like Assholes - everyone’s got one and most of them stink.

Nobody said it was a perfect world. If it were a perfect world, voyeurs would live across the street from exhibitionists and binoculars would cost ten cents a pair.

I went to a soup kitchen the other day. Not because I was hungry or couldn’t afford a meal. I just wanted to piss people off that say there’s no such thing as a free lunch.

I was going to run for president under the existential party, but I didn’t see the point.

 
I have friends that ask me if I want to go whitewater rafting. But I don’t know. I kind of lost interest in canoeing ever since I saw ‘Deliverance.’ I mean, everybody loves a party, but there is such a thing as getting carried away.

These days, politicians are so full of shit, they need a busload of diapers just to get through the week.

I wanted to be a stand up comedian, but I kept getting the sinking feeling that people were laughing at me.

Why are Sadomasochists always getting into love-hate relationships?

People say I’m perverted, but they should meet my cousin Lenny. He’s so perverted he rents ‘Schindler's List’ just for the nude scenes. And that’s just for the scenes of the guys."

The reason things are so bad?
Face it, we’re governed by photogenic lawyers.

I’ve always believed the term ‘dysfunctional family’ was redundant.

He was about as popular as an airplane pilot with a drinking problem.

If a guy asks you how you feel about a little ‘tasteful nudity’, chances are, he isn’t interested in method acting. Another phrase to look out for is ‘live animal sex acts’. I know a woman that tried out for a movie called "Tough Love", but it turned out to be about bondage and discipline.

Welcome to ‘The Writer’s Harvest’ - An event sponsored by ‘The Center for Teaching Excellence’, an organization which, I think we can all agree, is an improvement over it’s preceding program ‘The Center for Teaching Adequately’. Speech 1997

How come everyone becomes a kleptomaniac when it comes to cigarette lighters or pens?

Standing before you today, on this momentous occasion, I’m wondering how long it will take before the organizers realize they made a HUGE mistake in letting me speak.

I used to have a lot of respect for the medical establishment, until I read their last report ‘How to make money off of the sick and dying’.

I don’t really understand the Ford Probe. Why would anyone want to name their car after a painful rectal exam? What were the alternatives? The Ford Tampon? The Ford Enema?

Everybody complains about getting older, but nobody does anything about it.

After the last few relationships I’ve been in, I’m starting to get the impression that Pee Wee Herman had the right idea.

I think it’s safe to say that Joseph, the Virgin Mary’s husband was a tolerant man. I mean, how would you feel if your girlfriend told you she was pregnant, but was still a virgin: "Gee, Mary, I’d LIKE to believe you, but I’ve never heard of this Immaculate Conception thing."

I’d like to be a gigolo. The hours are flexible and I’m good with my hands.

People ask me why I do what I do. But the truth is, I’m just looking for character witnesses if I ever have to plead insanity.

I always been jealous of people who could play the piano. I guess I have a case of pianist envy.

I’m not really worried about dying as much as what my parents would think if they found my pornography after I’m dead.

Never say ‘Just surprise me’ to a barber.

I was working in a bookstore when I heard William Buroughs died. Some say he was a drug addict and an alcoholic. I just know he was a bad shot.

People with Diarrhea shouldn’t go jogging.

They say we learn from our mistakes. But if we really learned from our mistakes, I’d be a fucking genius by now.

I just had sex last night, and boy,is my arm tired.

John Denver was originally named John Deutschendorf until he changed it. I guess his record company figured he wouldn’t sell as many albums if he sounded like a Nazi war crimninal.

It’s not the clothes that a woman wears, as much as what’s underneath that counts.

He was about as popular as a gay rabbi at a Nazi rally.

It’s quantity, not quality I’m looking for when it comes to alcohol.

I hope I never get old, but I guess it’s inevitable. I just don’t want to find myself in a restaurant telling people about my operations.

I feel sorry for butt-ugly people. But it’s not like they have trouble getting laid. They just hook up with other butt-ugly people, and have butt-ugly children, who will meet up with other butt-ugly people, so the legacy can continue.

I’ve seen the best minds of MY generation so strung out on LSD they think Jerry Springer’s the antichrist, and I’m beginning to think they’re right.

I would rather die young that eat right and exercise.

You can’t always believe what people tell you. I met this guy that said he worked in women’s apparel, which was a nice way of saying he was a transvestite prostitute.

I doubt I’ll ever gain immortality through my writing, so I might as well take a stab at reproduction.

We all get fat and die sooner or later. It’s what the big cheese had in mind. Planned obsolescence.

There are some things you can only see on PBS. Like people painting themselves green and dancing to Indian Raga music. But I don’t know if that’s art or just a twisted cry for help.

If meat is murder, then I must be a serial Killer.

I told her I was in commercial transportation, which was not entirely untrue. I delivered Pizza for a living.

It’s hard to find accredited colleges in my price range, and lately, I find myself listening more attentively to Sally Struthers and Jackie Zeeman.

Never listen to an omnipotent being after you’ve been drinking.

I’ve always felt that suffering is overrated.

I just broke up with my girlfriend. And it wasn’t a lack of communication or anything, I just got tired of all those animal sacrifices.

And the other reason we like to roll over and go to sleep is...we’re done. From a biological stand-point, the five o’ clock whistle just rang. It’s Miller time. We have ignition, we have take off, mission accomplished.

Not many people know that before Mahatma Gandhi was the spiritual and political leader of India, he pursued his childhood dreams of becoming a professional wrestler.

You go to work and they're always telling you what to do, like, "Can you reattach that artery?" or "I need the forceps". Well, what about MY needs. I have to miss ONE LIFE TO LIVE because some asshole needs a heart transplant? Jesus, why don't they just leave me alone. I told them I had no training in medicine. I'm an Art student. But the employment agency doesn't care if I maim a bunch of people, as long as they get a percentage.

Retarded people seem to win or lose gracefully. They never complain, lie, steal, or display the vindictive, hysterical quality that marks the behavior of those of us with somewhat more brain cells. But what can you do? They don’t know any better.

I love animals. Not the same way my cousin Elmer loves animals, but he has some problems he’s working out with his doctor.

Europeans think the only thing we’ve ever contributed to civilization is Disney World. But I just say, "Hey, is that a television you’re watching? Gee, we’ve never seen one of those in America. You Europeans are so cutting edge.

I’ve never been into the heroes in action movies. Someone kills their wife and rapes their dog. Then the rest of the movie is centered around revenge. And don’t get me wrong, anyone that kills your wife and rapes your dog has got his priorities mixed up. Any sane villain would rape your wife and kill your dog. But these people are perverts and they deserve to die.

Just once, I’d like to interrogate a really bad poet: "What do you mean, ‘The beanbag chair of lost Tuesdays’? What the fuck does that mean?"

If everyone told the truth, we’d just have to build more jails and mental institutions, and nobody wants to foot the bill. I would chip in, but I don’t have any fucking money.

I think we should start enforcing a dress code at national political conventions. Because the entire world is watching us, and if they see people wearing donkey and elephant hats, dressed like they’re headed for Sizzlers, after an all night drinking binge, they’re going to think we’re in need of professional help. And I have nothing against personal weirdness, I just think the delegates to national political conventions should demonstrate as much dignity and intelligence as, for example, contestants in the Special Olympics.

Pamela Anderson’s as dumb as a dildo saleman at a revival meeting.

I’ve just finished a how-to book called "Alcoholism on a Shoestring Budget" or "How to Drink heavily on a Fixed Income." Because I’ve seen too many people that drink beyond their means, and I thought it was time someone reached out to them and said "You’re not alone. I understand."

A lot of women ask why men go to sleep after sex, and I think I’ve come up with an answer: Because we’re tired. And you might want to try a little experiment at home: Try doing about three or four thousand push-ups, and see whether or not you feel like jogging, or catching a movie.

It seems like the worst thing you can be in the nineties is insensitive. You can beat and rape someone, but for God’s sake, just don’t hurt their feelings.

If retarded people ran the world, we probably wouldn’t have any wars. Because their leaders would be less self-destructive and more mature.

But you talk about unreasonable. My boss was really oversensitive. I forgot to go to work for a few weeks and he took it personally. I'm not a computer. I can't be expected to remember everything. You start writing a song or playing Nintendo and, before you know it, it's ten thirty and you figure- you might as well take the whole day off, I mean, who needs the aggravation.

I'm in a bad mood tonight. All those nagging lawsuits. People complaining because I'm not actually trained as a gynecologist. Ok, if you want to split hairs. But at least I was reasonably priced.

"Hello, my name is Jim Stiene. I’m a graduate of the `Evelyn Wood Speed Reading Course’. Before my tragic accident during a presentation of my performance art routine, `Autoeroticism for the Socially Challenged’, I was at the top of my class at the Evelyn Wood School. But even with my physical handicap, I am able to read and digest all of the assigned material in three comparative literature classes. Before Evelyn Wood, students that tried to digest this much material would wind up regurgitating it in class, and eventually have to get a clean textbook. But with Evelyn Wood, that’s all changed. Please call now and take the first step towards achieving your dreams and reaching your goals. I know I did.

I’ve never understand why people obsess about death. What’s the big deal? I don’t know when I’m going to die, I just know it’s going to happen in the next five minutes, and I’m going to take a lot of people with me.

People said I drank too much when I worked as a waiter, but I figured I just had a bad sense of balance. And besides, I paid for peoples cleaning bills.

It’s not like I’m totally irresponsible.

I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said "AIDS is just God’s way of saying All Queers Must Die", and I wondered if Oliver North was in town.

What’s it all about Alfie?
I don’t know, but I’d have to be pretty high on drugs before I start taking philosophical advice from someone named "Alfie".

Women don’t want to be just sexual playthings, (no matter how much I plead and beg them.)

It’s almost inconceivable that someone can get in more trouble for agreeing to sell you a vial of crack than for hitting you in the face with a tire iron. I don’t understand the reasoning behind this: "Let’s see, would I rather be hit in the face with a tire iron, or have someone offer to sell me drugs?" Apparently a lot of politicians must have chosen to be hit with a tire iron, because the only way to explain their stance on drugs is massive head injuries.

I never understood the title of "Dances with Wolves". What the hell does that mean? Is dances a noun or a verb? Is it ‘One who dances with wolves’, or ‘I’m going to try out some new dances with wolves’? And wolves can’t dance anyway. Dogs can dance. If you hold them by their paws, but even then you have to lead. But you’d have to be pretty stupid to try to get a wolf to dance. They’ll bite your face off.

Behind every great man is a woman...
telling him to put the toilet seat down. I could just hear the conversation between Abraham and Mary Todd Lincoln: "For the last time, would you take out the damn garbage! It’s getting rancid in here! Look at you, sitting around writing speeches. That’s all you ever do. I swear to God, if it’s the last thing you do, you’re taking me to the theatre tonight!"

What if wars were fought by retarded people? Just think of the carnage, the bloodshed, the increase in military intelligence.

Do you think Henry Kissenger gets a lot of tail?

I wonder if Meg Ryan would let me bite her ass.

If someone has trouble peeing, does that mean they suffer from Diaretes? And how does that differ from diarrhea? They say the Czar Nicholas’ son suffered from hemophilia, which is either when someone has internal bleeding or likes to sleep with dead people. No wait, that’s necrophilia. Then there’s homophobia, which is the fear of olympic figure skaters, Cuomophobia, which is the fear of swarthy politicians, Bonophobia, which is either the fear of Cher’s ex-husband, or Irish rock singers, Yoko Onophobia, which is pretty much self-explanatary, Major Domophobia, which is the fear of head waiters, and of course, phonophobia, which is the fear your CD player will break and you’ll have to listen to your old twelve inch records.

They said I was mad. They said you couldn’t get a thousand kilowatts of energy from horse manure. And I would have proved them wrong if it hadn’t been for that explosion.

I wonder how long it will be before the people I work for realize that I’m in over my head. Cause they haven’t caught on yet and I’m not about to tell them. Not as long as I’m still getting a paycheck. But it usually doesn’t take this long. I mean, it’s already been five days. They’re usually on to me by now.

They say you haven’t really succeeded as a comedian until someone laughs so hard they wet their pants, so I’m going to try out my work on someone that has to go to the bathroom really bad.

People think I’m strange, but I’ve actually led a pretty normal life. I even had an imaginary friend as a child, until he got run over by a car. But he had it coming anyway. That’s what he gets for raping a chicken.

You can get us to stop talking dirty or looking at your legs, ladies, but you can't stop us from thinking dirty, because we couldn't stop it even if we wanted to. It's subconscious. Evolutions gift to humanity, because without it, we wouldn't even exist. Priests and nuns don't pass on their genes and neither do old maids. We are the product of murderers and perverts and they haven't figured out how to remove those genes yet.

And you wonder why people turn to heroin. A visit to an auto mechanic is enough to push anyone over the edge, and make a life of drug addled stupidity seem attractive. Now if I could only be declared mentally incompetent, I could get some medication.

Someone invited me to a Monster Truck Rally at the Sussex Fairgrounds today. It’s kind of like a cultural event for women who chew gum and drink beer at the same time.

I’m wondering if a movie I saw took place in Ireland or Wales. I think it’s called "The Englishman who went up a hill, then forgot where he left his keys, but by the time he got back down, they took the engine out of his car, so he just stood around like an asshole in the rain, while they whacked at it with hammers and stuff." It’s one of those Hugh Grant movies where he flinches a lot like he’s going to get hit in the face. But you know he’s not going to, because it’s just an act so people will think he’s sensitive. Because some women think that guys that are bashful are naturally sweet. But how do they know that they’re not serial killers or something, and all that twitching and stuff is because they hear voices in their head like "Kill the whore! I am your mother. You must obey me." And the guy goes "No mommy. I don’t want a rectal exam again."

I’ve watched those Sunday morning speakers talking about God’s love. But I’ve been in love, and when you’re in love, there just doesn’t seem to be much NEED for God.

The most annoying films are cop movies about Colombian drug cartels. Because the story is always the same. A hard nosed cop, that’s walking a thin lie with his superiors, who’s wife was killed, and now drinks heavily and dates jaded waitresses and prostitutes with bedroom eyes and a world weary cynicism, named Doris or Mabel. Sometimes the waitress gets kidnapped, and sometimes she gets killed. But if there were really any justice in the world, the people that write these scripts would be plunged head first into a giant vat of horse manure: "Let’s see you escape from THAT Mr. Bond!"

And I remember thinking, as I stood over her closet with squirt bottle of Heinz ketchup, "How could she do this to me? SHE’S RUINING MY LIFE."

I saw this ad on TV where this lady said "Nothing satisfies me like a Snickers bar." I don't know what she was doing with that Snickers bar, but I hope she at least unwrapped it first. I mean, there's no need to be a glutton about it.

No one will ever mistake today’s screenwriters for graduates of the gifted and talented program. Because most of these films were obviously written by someone with an extra chromosome.

I don’t know if my work is ‘Avante Guard’ as much as it’s ‘Criminally Insane’.

I had a cousin that’s a priest. I tried to tell him that the priesthood is probably not the best occupation for someone with Turret’s Syndrome, but he’s insistent. At least the head priest hasn’t noticed yet, on account of the fact that he drinks too much, and has been know to use colorful language himself from time to time.

Look at you all, sitting there drinking your coffee and acting like the world isn't going to end in three years and nine days. You're sick! All of you! You're just jealous because I HAVE the visions. I've heard the voices ever since my job in the post office and THEY ONLY SPEAK TO ME. You've got a messiah complex, that's YOUR problem.

People that start every sentence with the word ‘Dude’ should probably cut down on marijuana consumption.

People don’t want to read about postmodernism, phallocentrism or dialectual materialism, they want to hear about ME. What I’M doing, and how I feel about things.

I got fired from another job last week. They said something about ‘gross incompetence and paranoid, delusional behavior.’

And you wonder why people turn to heroin. A visit to an auto mechanic is enough to push anyone over the edge, and make a life of drug addled stupidity seem attractive. Now if I could only be declared mentally incompetent, I could get some medication.

What's the deal with people spending a thousand dollars for a 'Tickle Me Elmo' doll? For that kind of money, you'd think he'd do more than just tickle you.

I have to apologize for a remark I made where I said that Tori Spelling was retarded. It was inappropriate and insensitive, and I apologize to anyone with Downs Syndrome. I wasn’t trying to imply that they’re as dumb as Tori Spelling.

I watch a lot of television, so I think I know the question on most peop le’s minds, namely – Why are so many Americans sodomizing goats and drinking nail polish remover? If I knew the answer to that I’d be a millionaire. Or at least reasonably sane. But we live in a sick world. And if you asked a mad man why he’s crazy, he’d probably say "Cause reality’s such a bummer." So in light of the situation, drinking nail polish remover isn’t that crazy. Of course sodomizing a goat is another story, but I won’t get into that now.

I drove past a mailbox the other day that said, "The Kellers" and I felt like dropping in and asking, "Is Helen home?" But they’d probably just say, "She can’t see you right now."

You know you’ve got too much disposable income when you start buying things from the Home Shopping Network: "Yes, I just got your Elvis dinner plates and matching tampons and I don’t know how I ever lived without them. Now that my husband’s dead, I just sit around the trailer drinking beer and spending the insurance money, but you people keep me going. You’re wonderful." Just how empty does your life have to be before you’re sucking up to the hosts on the Home Shopping Network?

Performance art has given new meaning to the word ‘Dysfunctional’. There’s no way a normal person would do that in front of witnesses.

Ask not what your country can do for you, ask yourself, ‘What's the point of even waking up in the mourning!’ You CAN'T make a difference! Don't Vote! Ich Bin Ein jelly donut. I am not a cook. A vote for me is a vote wasted. These are the immortal words that have led brave men into inaction and eventually, paralysis. Nothing phases the catatonic, autistic or brain dead coma-induced vegetables because crazy people don't know their sick and catatonic people don't care anyway.

You can't trust those machines. Two point one, Three point oh wahs the difference?

‘Forrest Gump’ is the tale of a retarded man with an eating disorder, and his life as the captain of a shrimp boat. This movie delves into the hardships and joys of the world's Ping Pong champions, and offers a behind the scenes look at this grueling and often inhumane table sport. The role of Gump is played by Tom Hanks, who you might remember from his role in ‘Bosom Buddies’, in which Hanks plays a transvestite in the advertising business.

I finally figured out what I'm doing here. I'm writing a book. We're all writing a book, but some of us don't put it on paper. But in the last pages of my book it won't say that I spent the last hours of my life on Geritol and fed by relatives through a straw, because I'm HEADING for the brick wall, I'm LOOKING for the storm, I'm going out in a liquor store holdup, because, God damn it, I'm GOING OUT IN STYLE.

Fuck em if they can't take a joke. I never said I was sober.

In today's competitive market, it's getting harder to find prestigious jobs. But that will all change once you order my new twelve-step video. Yes, you too can become the envy of friends, and wet dreams of checkout girls, as you learn the fun and profitable world of grocery checkout. It covers packing bags, collecting shopping carts, and even how to accept all those compliments and obscene propositions you'll find yourself receiving once you order my new video and enter this exciting and lucrative field!

Those that lead lives based on responsibility and sanity are ultimately better prepared to deal with the continuous setbacks of life, but they're also more likely to throw themselves in front of traffic.

I doubt I'll ever go Bungee jumping. Because I just assume not be hanging upside down when I stain my shorts.

If people with I.Q.s of 140, or one percent of the population, are geniuses, then how about the top one percent in art, music, writing, psychology, sociology or philosophy? And how can you even objectively measure that? I’ve met a lot of people with I.Q’s of 140 who never had a profound idea in their life.

I get tired of people saying they're `real survivors'. Who isn't? A survivor is someone that lives through a Nazi death camp, not someone who just broke up with her boyfriend: "She'll be ok. Chrissy's a real survivor." And what are the rest of us, worm food? A survivor is someone that falls out of an airplane and lives to tell about it, not someone that just lost his job at the Piggly Wiggly. "Roy will be ok. He's a real survivor. He just needs to work on his fries. People don't like them too greasy."

It’s getting to the point where I’ve actually considered going out and trying to find a job.

…It’s like when you’re talking to old friends and you go, "Remember the time I took on three guys from Booton and beat the crap out of them?" and they go, "As far as I remember it, it was a tall cheerleader and her sister, and you ran from the room screaming about them pulling your hair." "Oh well, fuck it if you can’t remember. I’m not going to draw you a picture." That’s why I never go to class reunions. People exaggerate things in their imagination, where they remember you as some kind of irresponsible drug fiend or something. I don’t know where they get that from.

Why do people make scented toilet paper? You’re supposed to shove it up your ass, not your nose.

I’ll never understand women. And a lot of guys have probably had this happen to you: Your girlfriend’s screaming and yelling about not being sensitive to her needs, until you just give in and say, "All right. I’ll wear the Boy Scout uniform. Just don’t expect me to sing "The little Red Rooster" again. I have SOME dignity, for God’s sakes."

I had no desire to see Bon Jovi do an outdoor concert anymore than I’d like to see him kicked to death by angry mules. But it was close.

When I’m interested in a woman, I usually compliment her on her appearance or knowledge of world events. And if that doesn’t work, I usually try a little ether.

‘Quiz Show’ delves into the life of Bob Barker, his triumph over alcoholism, and his subsequent prison sentence. It has a cameo by Vanna white, who plays an ex-nun, and Barker's love interest. I can't give you all the details of this movie because it was related to me by someone I met on the bus, but it sounds like a really good movie.

No one has ever been arrested for the publication of my work. No small children were harmed in it's creation. And half the proceeds from it's publication will be used to shelter the homeless, purchase large prosthetic devises, or spent in seedy motels with large breasted women carrying nickel bags of dirt weed.

Hallucinogenic drugs and circus acts are almost ALWAYS a bad combination.

…Whether Clarence was used to illustrate the struggle between good and evil, or life and death, it stretches the credibility of this otherwise stark and misanthropic tale of personal suffering. The screenplay for "It's a Wonderful Life" was rewritten from the original script "Life Sucks And Then You Die" in which Stewart kills himself, forcing his children into an orphanage, and his wife to sell road maps on Rodeo Drive, but the producers felt the later version would go over a little better around Christmas time.

CULTIVATE your demons. Welcome them with open arms, because, when the chips are down, they're the only friends you've got. And writing isn't an art form it's an EXORCISM. You can keep your Prozac and your Thorazine, I'M DOING JUST FINE DOC!

I wanted to keep a daily journal so I could keep track of all the deep and profound thoughts I had. The stumbling block came when I realized I didn't HAVE any deep or profound thoughts. So I had to settle for keeping a record of perverted jokes and fictional accounts of my personal experiences.

Until I started compiling this collection, I didn’t realize just how bad my work really is.

I don’t know what I would do if I had the choice between being mentally or physically impaired. But unfortunately, that decision has already been made by God.

You get older and you start to lose your mind. There’s no reason why you can’t enjoy it. A little disorientation never hurt anyone.

Mother Terresa would KILL for the virtuous and health conscious lifestyle I've conducted over the years.

I heard something in the news today I didn't really understand. Why is President Carter building a Habitrail? And what does he plan on doing with those gerbils once they move in?

Oh, sure, my opponents will talk about my drunken, aberrant behavior. But when they can maintain the grades I have, and still maintain a serious buzz, THEN they can talk.

Never forget to bring your wallet, then ask your date how she feels about washing dishes while you go home to get it. Or try to reassure her by saying, "I’ll be back. Really."

I’ve always believed that Huey Lewis was the antichrist.

I just went through another bureaucratic nightmare applying for school. They'd rather see you dead, than accept a form that has a line filled out wrong.
If James Bond had been poisoned, they'd just sit and watch him die: "It seems you've let your coverage expire, Mr. Bond."
"I thought I was paid up. Please, I need the antidote in six minutes, or I'm going to die."
"Just fill out these forms."
"Ok, how's that?"
"You misspelled gastronomical."
"Ok, how about now?"
"Do you have any major credit cards?"
"Not on me."
"I'm sorry, we can't help you."

David Swimmer has been trying to send me secret messages.

Oh, I was just bringing those beer bottles to be recycled, officer.

I have to apologize for last week's review of Hunter S. Thompson's "Generation of Swine: Tales of Degradation and Shame in the 80's" in which I said it was about two synchronized swimmers and a dead sea mammal. I was actually referring to The Ty and Randy Babylonia Story. Those familiar with Thompson's work know that Thompson uses farm animals and Dairy Queen employees to illustrate powerful concepts about the injustice of human society. In this novel, Thompson makes an impassioned plea for human dignity and the five-martini lunch. It is a must read.

I started writing for the school paper. Or to be more accurate, I started writing TO the school paper, since they refuse to print anything I write.

I've decided to kidnap Tea Leoni. At least I did, until a 'friend' straightened me out.

It was just another Friday night, but one like no other I had seen before. It was one of those nights where the blood rushes up to your brain and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. It was just dysentery, but I don’t want to talk about that now.

Due to my unfortunate experiments with ether, I neglected to send you a self addressed stamped envelope with my last submission. Therefore. I am writing to inform you that return postage is not necessary.

I’ll never understand a culture that would kill one of the Beatles, and let Bon Jovi live.

I don't know why people are so paranoid about California's Medical Marijuana Law. Are they afraid Grandma's gonna start doing drive by shootings if she gets a low count on her Glaucoma medicine?

Why do male fashion models in catalogs always seem to have sweaters tied around their necks? Is it cold in photo shoots, and if it is, why don’t they wear their fucking sweaters? And if it isn’t, why did they bring them in the first place? Unless male models just have a tendency to overdress.

Education, Smeduca tion, I always say. Who needs it?

May your flatulence propel you and your bedsores be your guide.

I was conceived after a night of heavy drinking. Some people claim it happened outside of an all-night taco stand, but who can really say?

Regret is when you wake up and realize you shouldn't of had that sex change operation.

I’ve always believed that Rosanne Bahr is the personification of flatulence.

I like dogs, but I don’t like poodles. They’re like rodents with fur coats. And what would they do if someone broke into your house? Annoy someone to death? "Okay, I’ll leave, just shut the fuck up."

I don’t want to be crude or offend anyone, but bowlers get a lot of pussy.

If God wanted people circumcised, then why didn’t he just make them that way?

Thompson's ‘Generation of Swine’ is a heartfelt story about two synchronized swimmers and a pet otter named "Fluffy" that gets tragically killed in a performance art accident. Unfortunately, I am unable to review this book because the editorial staff on this paper insists that I have to actually read a book before I can review it.

Plastic surgeons are not exactly at the top of the ladder, as far as morality in the medical profession is concerned. I don't know how much dedication and personal commitment to well being it takes to make someone look like Donny Osmond.

I used to be a hunter. That was when I still had a job at the pet shop.
Boy, THAT was a mess.

I've never understood the expression "He's got a lot of balls". Wouldn't that be painful? And exactly what would be the benefit of having extra testicles? You would think that two would be more than sufficient. And what would qualify as "a lot" of balls? Five? Six? Wouldn't that make you a freak of nature? I mean, if I had five testicles, I'd have an operation. Maybe donate them to someone who really needed them. Someone who's a little low. "Here, you can have these...No, you don't have to thank me. I'm just doing my part. Making the world a happier place."

People ask me about my job packing groceries, so I tell them I only do it for the glamour. You're standing there with cashiers and housewives giving you the eye, and you KNOW they want you. Who wouldn't want a guy that packs bags for a living?

A friend of mine says his girlfriend was thinking of becoming a lesbian for political reasons. I would have asked her, "Can’t you just become bisexual for political reasons? I mean, I’d like to get involved."

The question for our generation isn’t "Can you ever go home?" it’s "Can you ever afford to leave home?"

No, your honor, I don't know who was driving my car. I was watching CHIPS at the time.
Well he probably just looked a lot like me.
What? Do you really believe everyone's fingerprints are different?

Intelligence isn’t what you know, it’s what you can do with what you know.

I don’t understand why the Joker didn’t just shoot Batman. In every episode, Batman fought the bad guys and lost. Got hooked up to some horrible torture devise and escaped. Then fought the bad guys again and won. Then the bad guys were arrested and taken to jail for a few weeks, before appearing in another episode. This was, of course the only realistic thing about Batman. The fact that most criminals spend less time in jail than teenagers spend in the bathroom.

Fran Drescher has been stalking me again.

I’ve decided to start lying on my resume.

Don't let them talk you into action when you know it's just an invitation for disappointment and failure.

But I'll just have to hang in there a little longer, cause it can't get any worse and I've got a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon in the freezer that fell off a truck. Tomorrow, I think I'll start stalking Kathy Lee.
Now, if I could only do something about those hallucinations.

I really don’t understand S&M. If I want to be abused, I can always go home to a family diner.

These are the times that try men’s souls. But we must stand together: The fat, the stupid, the morally impoverished, against those of means, influence, intelligence. But more specifically - people with jobs. Because if we continue to let people with gainful employment make all our decisions, what hope do the lazy and ignorant ever have of controlling their destiny?

Have you been following the Paula Jones case? She recently made the revelation that President Clinton has an irregularly shaped penis. This will make it hard for the President to shake the public’s perception that he’s just another crooked politician.

How do you know when you're coming unhinged. It creeps up on you so slowly. Sure, there are signs that your grasp of the situation is disintegrating. Little things. Like waking up in Phoenix in a chicken suit with a dog named Rufus.

I work in an office where women are always coming up to me and saying: "So Jim, how can you be so fucking studdly?" Or something to that effect. Actually, I think their exact words are "Can you make a copy of this and fax it to Boston?" But I can read between the lines.

I’ve never been very good at talking to women. Still, I can get by, by using a few good opening lines like: "Look, I’m not rich or talented. I’m just an average guy with an enormous penis, who’s looking for a little affection." And that usually gets their attention.

I’ve often suspected that Yogi Bear and Ed Norton from the `Honeymooners’ were the same person.

Tomorrow, someone remind me to start stalking Kathy Lee. Now if I could only do something about those hallucinations.

I’ve always though Post Modernism was dated. But I’m a firm believer in ambiguity. Still, I‘ve never believed in Nihilism
Is an unspoken agreement a contradiction in terms? I mean, if you haven’t talked about it, how can you agree on it?
Yesterday I looked forward to the future. But today I’m still living in the past. And tomorrow I’m going to ‘Do it all over again’ just to prove that nothing ever really changes.
If humans evolved from apes, than what did apes evolve from?
If the clothes make the man, then who made the clothes?
Is a vibrator without batteries merely a dildo?
Is an SOS just a twisted cry for help?
And why can’t they make things like they used to?