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.

Normal people, fear the day their parents die. Screwed up people, fear the day their parents kill. My mum killed a guy, at my wedding. So I can pretty much check that off. But, she's my mum. And no matter what she did I just can't walk away from her. She gave me birth. She gave me love. She gave me the ability to make a cigarette fire look like it was started by the hot water heater.

I lost 28 pounds in my divorce... because that's what a soul weighs.

Benadryl - the seven-dollar babysitter.

Many massacres have happened when people yell "surprise"! Pearl Harbor. The Tet Offensive. My uncle's 50th birthday party. I was there, man! How many more people gotta die?

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.

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.