Along with the 97 percent of women who can see, I have never been a fan of redheaded men.

That's what my perfume would smell like, margarita and vodka.

I met my first midget in Mexico, and he was a waiter with a sombrero on his head, filled with chips and salsa. Like I was gonna let that guy get away - I don't think so.

My tendency to make up stories and lie compulsively for the sake of my own amusement takes up a good portion of my day and provides me with a peace of mind not easily attainable in this economic climate.

I'll tell you what can make bacon better... nothing.

The only reason I think I would marry a foreigner would be to have kids with weird accents.

I'm not graceful either. I have no rhythm, I'm never on top.