Many stroke survivors look back on their attack as a stroke of luck. Of course, by luck they mean horrible paralysis.

I have no ability to develop muscle tone. I could do situps all day and still look like a condom full of walnuts.

Every time the circus comes to town, I can't help thinking, Somewhere out there, there's clown semen.

I'm only afraid of dying if I'm to be held accountable for what I did while living. If there's no God or reckoning, I'm like, whew!

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

When I finally invent a time machine you will already know about it because I'll have told you a long time ago.

Like many indelible family memories, carving a pumpkin begins with someone grabbing a really sharp knife.