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

My mom was a manic depressive schizophrenic who, after a year in prison, went home and shot herself. My sister, Kirsten, an amazing poet, who was raised by this woman, and was dating a guy who broke up with her for the fourth time in three weeks. And one day, she came to his house, got a gun, and blew her brains out all over his headboard. I just went through a divorce, five years in court and cost me $2 million dollars. If anyone, by law, should be forced to take antidepressants it's me... But instead, I choose to be an antidepressant. And you can take me with alcohol.

Osama's dead. Why is the terror alert elevated or imminent? Why not chill? Can't I just fly, keep my shoes on and avoid X-ray-fueled testicular cancer?

God bless America. But God, please help Canada.

Life, is easy. And if yours isn't, quit whining. Oh, wait. unless you're just a head amd then, you do have it pretty rough. I don't know how you roll out of bed every morning.

Vengeance, is good. You give it, you get it. It's all part of what makes us human. So thank god for vengeance. Otherwise, the human race might as well just roll over and let another species for a while. I think it will be the cats. Watch 'em. They're cooking up something.

Fighting Dad's not a fight. Fighting dad is, "Hi, you've just instigated your own mugging! Come on down!"