My mom shot and killed her last husband. Yeah, my dad used to say "Hey, dodged that bullet. Ha ha."

Terrorists, oh I'm sorry, Fox News tells us it's all illegal immagration's fault but it's not their fault, it's ours.

By the way, six A.M.? Not a real great time for me; you know, I'm a comic. I get off work at two. Six A.M., I'm a little grumpy. Six A.M., I'm a little P.O.ed. Six A.M., I'm like a vampire with a paper route.

Love. It's God's greatest gift. He fills our world with it and makes sure we grow up with caring, supportive parents. I'm just kidding. Pain is God's greatest gift. Pain is God's way of saying, "Hurts, don't it ? Wel, go ahead. Say, me dammit again."

All of Dad's relationships ended exactly the same: subpoena, beep of a moving van backing up the driveway, pile of his clothes burning on the front lawn.

Passion, manners, and 80 ounces of beer will win the heart of any woman. And if it doesn't, you'll be too hammered to remember.

The Los Angeles Times reported that sixty-three percent of American families are now considered dysfunctional. Good. 'Cause that means when Armageddon really happens, thirty-seven percent of this population is going to lose their minds. Oh my God, the world is over! Us sixty-three percent? We're going to go, Hey... there's no one watching the Lexus dealership! We're going to the Apocalypse with leather and a CD changer! You guys have been great. Thank you.