Being a parent is a life sentence. From the day that kid is born until the day you die and then some. Mom, there is nothing to forgive. You gave me life. And, hey, you're not crazy anymore. Everybody thinks I am. Real funny, mom.

Normal people terrify me, because they haven't had enough problems in their life to know how to handle problems when they come up. Something little happens and they snap. But being from a dysfunctional family means nothing rattles me. Hey once you've driven a drunken father to moms' parole hearing, what else is there?

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.

Every weekend, I would get the drunk driving lecture. Of course, Dad drank and drove all the time. I guess it wasn't a lecture; it was helpful tips from the master.

I don't tell people I'm white anymore - I'm albino-Cambodian.

Bad news has never been broken gently in my family. Because, breaking it gently takes a few extra seconds. And who's got that kinda time? Hey, we maybe failures, but we are very busy.

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.