When I wake up in the morning, I just can't get started until I've had that first, piping hot pot of coffee. Oh, I've tried other enemas.
One man's pet-stained carpet is another man's Twister game.
You know what I hate? Indian givers... no, I take that back.
My parents were very protective. I couldn't even cross the street without them getting all excited, and placing bets.
He taught me never to smile, which helps me when I visit disaster sites.
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?