My father never missed a drink in his life. Or a joint. Or a party. Or a chance to get laid. He also never missed a day of work, or a house payment, or a car payment. I never went hungry, although he did a couple of times so I wouldn't.

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.

I have pictures of my daughter, in the hospital, at three seconds, six seconds, nine seconds, and then fifteen seconds, 'cause dumbass couldn't get the camera ready fast enough. Yeah, ha ha ha. She wrote that in the photo album.

Divorce is just about change, you know. It's God saying, You need a change. And I'm going to make it so your bank account only has change.

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.

They call it torture when our guys put underwear on a guy's head, stripped him naked, put an egg between his buttcheeks and made him do jumping jacks. You know, if it can't get you into a fraternity at Chico State University, it's not torture.

Texas is a hell hole, man. Dirt, cactus, lizards, dirt, cactus, the Bush family.