My dad and I, we used to play baseball. I was the catcher. Which I liked. Until one day, I saw this game on TV, and I said, Hang on, how come their catcher doesn't have his hands tied to his ankles?

Because we allow handguns. When you know someone in the crowd might be packing a rod, it can't help but rush your timing.

The other day a woman came up to me and said, Didn't I see you on television? I said, I don't know. You can't see out the other way.

I was feeling a bit down, I went to a therapist a few times, at a hundred bucks a pop. But then I realized that no therapy session would ever cheer me up half as much as if I was just strolling along and found a hundred dollar bill.

Well, my brother says 'Hello.' So, hooray for speech therapy.

My parents were very protective. I couldn't even cross the street without them getting all excited, and placing bets.

The way I understand it, the Russians are sort of a combination of evil and incompetence... sort of like the Post Office with tanks.