I'm so fat and I'm so depressed; last night I tried to hang myself - but the rope broke.

Elizabeth Taylor was so fat that whenever she went to London in a red dress, 30 passengers would try to board her.

I wish I could tell you it gets better. It doesn't get better. YOU get better.

My face has been tucked in more times than a bedsheet at the Holiday Inn.

I could never be in a cult. For starters, they never accessorize properly. David Koresh had no fashion sense, Jim Jones wore leisure suits, and I don't care how charismatic Osama bin Laden was, an AK-47 and an insulin drip do not take the place of drop earrings or a well-placed brooch.

I've learned: When you get older, who cares? I don't mince words, I don't hold back. What are you gonna do to me? Fire me? It's been done. Threaten to commit suicide? Done. Take away my show? Done! Not invite to me to the Vanity Fair party? I've never been invited! If I ever saw the invitation, I'd use it as toilet paper.

My boobs are so low I had to put curb feelers on my nipples!