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

Hanging out with women on a platonic level is like spending time with someone from Europe. It's not better or worse, but it is different.

I've decided to aim a telescope at my neighbour's window. It's the closest I'll ever come to living with someone comfortably.

I don't know if it's the economy, but finding work as a spiritual guru is really hard. Maybe I should grow my hair out.

Cupcakes are the tattooed brunette chick of the baked goods world.

I'm pretty happy for someone who struggles with happiness.

Fake titties are inversely proportioned to their owners level of self esteem. This being said, part of me loves them.