How come Mom is crazy and I'm not? Well, it's possible my mom could stand up in front of this many people and talk about all the crap in her life and those people could have sat around and laughed with her, it would've meant nothing and she could have moved on cool. It's also possible she could have taken out the whole front row with a large-caliber weapon.

I'm thinking of a presidential bid; currently indexing and cross-referencing everyone I've tweeted my junk to. 8x10s available.

Sometimes, to help the people you love, you've gotta commit a felony.

In a normal family, surprise means presents, cake and a party. My family, surprise means homelessness, abandonment and destruction of private property. Sometimes we have cake. We're not losers.

Born free. Taxed to death.

Sometimes, to help someone you love, you have to commit a felony. But, you don't want to go to prison for that. Hey, dude, what are you in for? Armed robbery? Murder? And then, you have to say, Love. And, that's definitely going to get you, you know, picked last for prison kick ball.

And one more thing I want to be clear about - I know who I am. I am just a very thin layer of charming with some funny sprinkles wrapped around a huge creamy center of raging arrogant a-hole. I got it.