Really, he called me that? Ellen DeGenerate? I've been getting that since fourth grade. I guess I'm happy I could give him work.

You know, it's hard work to write a book. I can't tell you how many times I really get going on an idea, then my quill breaks. Or I spill ink all over my writing tunic.

If your Birthday is on Christmas day and you're not Jesus, you should start telling people your birthday is on June 9 or something. Just read up on the traits of a Gemini. Suddenly you're a multitasker who loves the color yellow. Because not only do you get stuck with them combo gift, you get the combo song. "We wish you a merry Christmas - and happy birthday, Terry - we wish you a merry Christmas - happy birthday, Terry - we wish you a merry Christmas and a happy New Ye - Birthday, Terry!

I'm sure men have their own ways of trying to demean one another, but women can be very gossipy and judgmental, and that doesn't help.

All of my friends were seeing a therapist, and I thought something was wrong with me that I didn't see a therapist. So I went to a therapist to find out why I wasn't seeing a therapist. And it turns out I'm very screwed up. Thank God I found a therapist to tell me for $125 an hour.

I don't know who had the bright idea of teaching pneumonia how to walk, but I'd like to find that dunderhead before he decides he wants to teach it how to drive.

I hate having to do small talk. I'd rather talk about deep subjects. I'd rather talk about meditation, or the world, or the trees or animals, than small, inane, you know, banter.