I think of my body as a temple. Or at least a relatively well-managed Presbyterian youth center.

For some reason, religious jokes seem as trivial as jokes about food or driving.

I don't know if I was put on this Earth for a purpose or not. But I'm fairly confident that I'll be taken off of it for one.

I got a letter from the IRS. Apparently I owe them $800. So I sent them a letter back. I said, If you'll remember, I fastened my return with a paper clip, which according to your very own latest government pentagon spending figures will more than make up for the difference.

So I'm at the wailing wall, standing there like a moron, with my harpoon.

When I was 10, I beat up the school bully. His arms were in casts. That's what gave me the courage.

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.