Thanksgiving is a holiday that brought together two different cultures. And things might not always work out like you think they should. But they always work out. I'm thankful that the world's in perfect harmony at all times. Pilgrims had it tough. But now, we live in the strongest, most prosperous country in the world. And the Indians, well, you know.

In a normal family, a surprise means presents, cake and a party. For me ? I had no idea. And my family, doing something nice is seen as an attack. When I was nine, I 'attacked' my father with a fathers day gift. A visor organiser for his car, because it was useful. And it rhymed. Visor. Organiser. I was nine.

Lady Gaga is proof that David Bowie raped Carol Burnett.

Nobody's really happy. And as soon as society realises that you can't trust anyone and that hardship is a natural part of existence, the sooner the therapists will realise that they are worthless! Sorry. They have worth deficit disorder!

Blood doesn't make you family. Hell, an only child can bleed. It's the sharing of pain that makes you family. 'Cause, you can't really love a brother or sister until you know that they're as scarred and broken as you are. And, hey, if you grow up with a father like mine and you aren't at least a little scarred and broken, well then, that's not your father. You were spawned by an entirely different guy.

Being a teenager is the worst thirty years of your life. Peer pressure, acne, final exams, seven little tiny hairs on your upper lip. Luckily, the girls never noticed your infantile moustache, 'cos they were hyptonised by the fire engine sized zit on your forehead.

I think our collective psychosis is hilarious. With the world moving as fast as it is, if we weren't dysfunctional, we couldn't function.