I'm extremely moved by the loving, caring relationship the President always seems to have with his imaginary son.

I'm glad I don't have a lot of money in the market. And quite frankly, you'd be better off giving your money to a colorblind roulette addict than put it in the stock market.

If some unemployed punk in New Jersey, can get a cassette to make love to Elle McPherson for $19.95, this virtual reality stuff is going to make crack look like Sanka.

Dennis Kucinich's politics are more scrambled than Rod Steiger's dream journal.

A good rule of thumb is if you've made it to 35 and your job still requires you wear a nametag, you've probably made a serious vocational error.

The second type you have at these parades seems to be the people who want to mislabel Hitler. Everybody in the world is Hitler. Bush is Hitler, Ashcroft is Hitler, Rumsfeld is Hitler. The only guy who isn't Hitler is the foreign guy with a mustache dropping people who disagree with him into the wood chipper. He's not Hitler.

That kid's got an arm like Uncle Fester at an exhibition of Pre-Colombian... um, Christ, I lost it. I was going for something thick. So what's with the beard, Grizzly Fouts?