There's no more delicious irony on the face of the Earth than environmental protesters being led away in plastic handcuffs that have a biodegradability horizon line of, like, 40,000 years.

The average American's day planner has fewer holes in it than Ray Charles's dart board.

Other than the bombs they strap to their chests, Ive got no idea what makes the Palestinians tick.

We've got Nancy Pelosi. She never shuts up. It's just occasionally we have to hood her like a falcon so we can get some sleep.

I haven't seen anyone rely on the ground game this much since the battle of Verdun.

I still feel pangs of remorse over an insidious habit I've had since I was a teenager. About three times a week, I attend estate auctions and make insulting, low-ball bids for prized heirlooms until I'm asked to leave.

America was founded by puritans and like it or not the anti-pleasure dogma of those buckled-shoed killjoys still pervades our collective unconscious like an I-max shot of Dennis Franz's naked hairy cop ass. Hence, anything enjoyable is automatically forbidden and bad and in our panic to avoid it at all cost we become obsessed with it... like dressing up in a pink teddy and a pair of ugboots and repeatedly screaming the word 'VERBOTEN!' into a conk shell balanced on the back on a miniature pony... Oh, I see.. That would just be me.