Most jokes state a bitter truth.

I refuse to do anything easy. I'm writing for the smartest person out there. I'm not equating myself with the smartest person out there, but hopefully I'm writing to say you're not alone. I'm not alone. We're not alone.

The Amazon is still burning; we just don't hear the smoke detectors anymore.

Contrary to popular belief, it's not the legs that go first; it's remembering the word for legs.

Today's audience knows more about what's on television than what's in life.

I know one thing - very few writers in Southern California get to write what they want to write. We are more or less worker ants, working for either film companies or tv companies or Internet companies. We do a lot of assigned work. Feelings hardly ever enter into it. If they do, they tend to be on a sort of soap opera level.

I am on sort of a diet in terms of the Internet. It's the sheer quantity. It's the Niagara of opinion, of information. It's not that I have any kind of compassion fatigue. I just insist on having a life.