If anyone e-mails you something "by George Carlin," there's a 99 percent chance I did not write it. I didn't write "Paradox Of Our Time." I didn't write "George Carlin On Aging." I didn't write a eulogy for my wife after she died. I didn't write the New Orleans thing. I didn't write "I Am A Bad American." None of them. You know what I've decided to do? I'm going to get a little cheap put-it-together-yourself website called NotMe.com.

Not only do I not know what's going on, I wouldn't know what to do about it if I did.

If work is so terrific, how come they have to pay you to do it?

Suppose I could shoot myself in the mouth, but what if I miss? People will laugh at me.

I wanted to get a job as a gynecologist, but I couldn't find an opening.

Little-known fact: When the stock exchange closes, the guy who comes out on the balcony with that big hammer slams it on the head of the person who lost the most money that day.

When it comes to bullshit...bigtime, major league bullshit...you have to stand in awe of the all-time champion of false promises and exaggerated claims...religion.