My general rule of thumb is, once something's a ride at Disneyland, I assume that it is no longer a threat in real life. Which is why I don't expect to get attacked by a giant tea cup anytime soon.

I could've enjoyed a cigarette if I smoked back before everyone knew it was bad - say, like, 1923. Everybody smoked back then. There was no medical information against it; they had no idea - it was a paradise. It was a smoker's paradise: 'They're taking my lung out next week. I don't know why. Doctor thinks maybe I'm brushing my teeth too often, but I can't help it because, for some reason, my breath smells like I licked a monkey's ass.

I deserve someone who likes me for who I am pretending to be.

I'm trying to feel terrified and alone. And regret every decision I've ever made, drenched in a cold sweat. It's called going to sleep. Maybe you've heard of it.

I just got a new iPod. It's got 80 gigabytes. Because I like to jog for three weeks at a time and I do not want to hear the same song twice.

You know the little camel on the pack of cigarettes? They just found out that's not even a camel. It's actually a horse with a big, old tumor growing out of its mouth.

It's too difficult to convey tone in electronic communication. And we can solve this my friends. All we need is some new fonts. 'Great party Arj. Best party ever.' What a jerk! How do you know he wasn't being sincere, Arj? Because he wrote it in Sarcastica! If he had enjoyed himself, he would have used Good Times Roman.