I am a patriot, and I protest speed limits by exceeding them.

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.

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?

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.

My mom had this inate ability. Whatever town my mother moved to, the second she walked into town, she would instantly attract the alpha loser of that town. This guy was not a good guy. This guy was half O.J. Simpson and half O.J. Simpson. Scott Peterson sprinkles on the top, a side of Robert Blake. You know, not a good guy.

I have a dream. With that one sentence, Martin Luther King touched and empowered an entire nation. You know what else he did? He made everybody else without dreams feel real bad.

My random acts of violence weren't random. They were premeditated.