One day Donald Trump will discover that he is owned by Lutheran Brotherhood and must re negotiate his debt load with a committee of silent Norwegians who dont understand why anyone would pay more than $120.00 for a suit.

I believe in looking reality straight in the eye and denying it.

The audience is invisible and that's good. Somewhere my voice is drifting through a swine barn and the sound of it seems to perk up the sows' appetite. Or a lady is listening on headphones as she jogs along a beach, running to my cadence. Or a dog sits in front of the radio, head cocked, and the sibilants excite him in some mysterious way. A dog's humorist, that's me.

Childhood is the small town everyone came from.

You'd learn more about the world by lying on the couch and drinking gin out of a bottle than by watching the news.

This is the big reason most humorists fail. Drunks don't read books.

I remember when I switched from Christmas to sex as the secret of happiness.