I swear my car won't run unless I'm picking my nose: At least, I'm that superstitious about it, so I don't want to take any chances.

If in 1989 I said, 'I have an idea: Bottle water and sell it. And charge more than a beer,' they would have chased me around with a giant butterfly net. The same with paying to watch a television station.

Well, the post office is probably not the place you want to go if you want to be infused with patriotism and a renewed sense of vigor.

Life is just the time between crapping yourself.

When I am king, I will revise the sexual bases system so that getting to first base will include oral sex and sodomy!

I cook a little bit. I make a Hungarian dish called chicken paprikash that's out of this world. I'll give a heads-up to all of your readers that it doesn't have to be between Thai and Mexican every night. Toss some Hungarian in every once in a while. You will not be sorry. Good, solid peasant food.

When I fart my ass makes a trumpet sound that heralds the arrival of the smell.