Of course, here's the weird part. After I fought my dad, all of a sudden we're buddies now. Like he's my friend now, we start hanging out. But we're still the same people. So we'd go out on Sunday, you know, and just be hanging out, then he'd, like, pick a guy, and we'd just go beat the crap out of that guy as a team. Memories, huh?

You don't give out trophies for losing. Trophies for sucking. That's a communist idea. You don't get a trophy for losing. You get a piece of pizza and you shut up. Trophies for losing? What the hell happened to us?

Everybody has hope for the perfect love. Normal people are raised to believe that there's someone out there who's your soulmate, your best friend, your lover. My dad always told me that when you find that person, "You gotta nail her"!

My parents' divorce settlement involved a bar tab.

And my daughter's too smart. She gets it watching TV. She gets it. She's five. She gets it. I... I have a smart kid; I don't want a smart kid. I'm gonna start feedin' her lead paint chips just to bring her down.

The only way to tell my Dad something is to write it on a note, and tie it to a brick, and throw it through a window. Of course, now Dad's armed with a brick.

There's one in every family. When the police calls in the middle of the night and says "We've got a family members of yours under arrest" and you know directly who it is. In my family we have seven of those... And they are all my *Mom*!