I'll lie still for a lot of things - but sex isn't one of them.

I caused my husband's heart attack. In the middle of lovemaking I took the paper bag off my head. He dropped the Polaroid and keeled over and so did the hooker. It would have taken me half an hour to untie myself and call the paramedics, but fortunately the Great Dane could dial.

I wish I had a twin, so I could know what I'd look like without plastic surgery.

The psychic scars caused by believing that you are ugly leave a permanent mark on your personality.

Comedy exists to laugh at things that aren't laughable. But isn't it? That's what separates us from the animals. We laugh.

I am a dyke! And I'm damn proud of it!

A Mafia guy in Vegas gave me this advice: "Run your own race, put on your blinders."