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

My first open mic was fantastic. I crushed. And my second mic was as bad as my first one was good.

I am faced with a bruising dilemma: pay to fix the dishwasher or continue serving everything in waffle cones.

In an effort to look cool, I am going to stop shouting Hey, you! at airplanes.

I used to fear living a life untouched by God, but now, for some reason I've gone back to being afraid of cement mixers.

The only thing that will stop a bad guy with a pressure cooker bomb is a good guy with a slightly larger pressure cooker bomb.

I bet when all the punctuation marks have a party, they quietly look at exclamation point's wife and think, that poor woman.