I have a rare form of body dysmorphia in which I absolutely can't stand how good I look.

My girlfriend is upset about her new haircut. I don't understand why she's crying. I'm the one who has to get a new girlfriend.

I had a happy childhood in a nice suburban area, pretty idyllic, upper middle class and very, very white. My dad is an attorney. My mother is a housewife. They had five kids in seven years: me, my brother, and three sisters. I'm the oldest. We were all very active. My mother was exhausted.

Every year I volunteer at a hospital on Thanksgiving, deep-frying turkeys in the children's burn unit. I do it just to see the looks on their little "faces."

Doctor just told me I can't have kids. I asked for a second opinion. He said, Why? No one's gonna to let you take kids from this hospital.

The opposite of sad is down's syndrome.

The true meaning of Christmas is actually centuries of gullibility.