I love England. In fact, they're getting to know me so well at Heathrow Immigration that this time I was able to completely bypass the six months rabies quarantine.

I was sleeping the other night, alone, thanks to the exterminator.

Isn't this a wonderful country? I was in Florida. I'm staying at a motel called the Three Palms. It's run by a middle-aged couple, one of whom is missing a hand. OK! That's what I thought, too! But they got upset when I asked.

My sister just had a baby. We can have company over. She'll be in front of everyone with her um... breast... out feeding it. You know... cereal or whatever.

Writing jokes for others is like having babies for someone else. It's sad. Like the woman who gives up her baby but needs to be close so she secretly becomes the maid in the household.

When I was a kid, my goodness, corporate America was a bunch of stolid white guys in gray suits trying to be serious, and now it's stolid white guys in gray suits trying to be funny.

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