Drum Competitions are called such because no one wants to win the big Beat Off.

As I die, and my life flashes before my eyes, I want to see who made faces at me when I turned my head. That's all I want to see.

My dog keeps looking at me as if he knows my secret, as if he and he alone can see my soul. That or he wants this pork chop.

I like to think of murder-suicide as extreme multitasking.

Even if I say, Everyone in the village died of diarrhea, I still laugh a little after diarrhea.

If you encounter someone who pronounces the t in often, odds are they're a douchebag.

Do transvestites have to dress up for Halloween or do they pretty much qualify from the get-go?