Everybody's angry with me because, apparently, I outed my cousin during an argument over a turkey leg. My cousin goes, 'You had the last leg.' I was like, 'You're gay.

I've decided to become gay, not in a sexual way, but I am going to start picking up around the house.

I like shitty strip clubs. They look like what they are. I know what to expect. Unlike Congress, at least we know everybody is for sale.

It's difficult to feel silly and depressed at the same time, but I manage.

Nature's beauty never fails to fill me with a sense of wonder and awe, and still, I refuse to go camping.

Misery loves company which is ironic because it rarely throws dinner parties.

Trannies dress up like women, then try to bang straight guys. They're the adrenaline junkies of gayness.