Whatever happened to the good ole days, when children worked in factories?

Some comedians change their style, often to their advantage; but I see no reason why I can't continue with the "urbane sophisticate" 'til the day I die.

I read that nine out of 10 women fantasize about having an unknown man leap through their bedroom window at night and make mad, passionate love to them. Who would think with those odds, I would now be facing 150 hours of community service.

I was a cute baby. My mom said when I was born they threw away the mold. Some of it grew back.

My jokes are in my head and I have a duplicate copy of my jokes in a lot of British comics' heads, where they are safe.

Pentiums melt in your PC, not in your hand.

When I was ten, my family moved to Downer's Grove, Illinois. When I was twelve, I found them.