Normal people, fear the day their parents die. Screwed up people, fear that their parents are going to live forever. Showing up at your house at weird hours of the night, smelling all funny, with a bunch of their friends. Hey boy, this is Harold, Cecil and Dicky. Dicky lost his wife about a year ago. I hear Erin made cookies. Where can I put my shoes ? If that doesn't scare you, you're not human.

Valentines Day is the day we celebrate real love. A love so strong that two hearts become one. And when she's happy, you're happy. And when she's angry, you can still choose to be happy, 'cos, what's her deal ? You know, I'm happy. Why is she bringing me down, you know ? Oh great, now look, I'm getting all mad. I hope she's happy. Happy Valentine's Day.

Thanksgiving is a holiday that brought together two different cultures. The pilgrims came here with the best intentions. They decided to flee an oppressive people and move to a new land. Where they thrived. And became an oppressive people. You get certain people on the same continent, there's going to be a problem. Pilgrims and Indians. Protestants, Catholics. My family, anybody else's family.

Humans are born, small, weak and helpless. That's why we have family. And the elders of the family are the honoured guardians of our country's history. Unfortunately, in America, we, you know, lock those elders away out of view in nursing homes and go about our little lives. It's a great national shame and an irredeemable tragedy. Oh well.

Being a parent is a life sentence. You see, that's why normal people should not have children because if you raise a kid with only love and support, I guarantee that kid will be in rehab by the time he is 16. Why? Because you never introduced him to Mr. Back-of-Your-Hand. You know why I only broke into a liquor store once? 'Cause my father introduced me to Mr. Back-of-His-Hand and its wiley sidekick, Mr. Foot-in-My-Ass.

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.

Normal people, who grow up with compassion, never amount to anything. They're the ones who end up gluing those little dots on the highway. Or, putting glue on the dots for the guy who glues dots on the highway. Screwed up people, who weren't coddled or raised with compassion, we get stuff done. Sure, we feel a little alone and abandoned, but, we're... very... happy. Why can't you love me, daddy?