It's interesting, once I have convinced people that, yes, I have a sister with a mental disability, the retard jokes really dry up, so I'm not sure how much retard humor is really going on out there, but I imagine there's a lot because it's a pretty safe group to make fun of. It's not like the Retards of America are gonna rise up and organize a protest. They're not gonna write letters. They only just recently got the Supreme Court to stop executing them.

I've been called a racist before, and let me tell you something - that is harsh. That's a really ugly thing to call someone. That's like being called a Mexican.

I could never be a lesbian because I have a really good sense of humor.

I love my hunting dog. I loved my hunting dog - I'm not very good at hunting.

If you enjoy shaming people, I suggest dentistry as a profession.

When one door closes another door opens. Usually a refrigerator.

My sister is also retarded. Across the board. She's a one hundred per cent, honest to goodness, born that way retard. I learned a long time ago that if you're going to tell a story about your retarded sister, you need to mention she's retarded right off the bat or inevitably, at the end of the story, someone will say, What... is she, retarded? And then you have to go, Uh... yeah, she is. Followed by a lengthy, awkward silence.