I'm no longer a prisoner of my fears. Which really just means I'm using real butter.

Most comics worship music on some level. It's more rock-n-roll to get up there for an hour and make people laugh.

I'm tired of seeing great women in bullshit relationships.

When it comes to men, deal with them as they are, not how you’d like them to be.

Here's something else to think about: calling when you say you're going to is the very first brick in the house you are building of love and trust. If he can't lay this one stupid brick down, you ain't never gonna have a house baby, and it's cold outside.

Let's start with this statistic: You are delicious. Be brave, my sweet. I know you can get lonely. I know you can crave companionship and sex and love so badly that it physically hurts. But I truly believe that the only way you can find out that there's something better out there is to first believe there's something better out there. What other choice is there?

A good indication that it's not is if you're only staying with What's His Name because you're scared.