This is how sad my life is: I got a scar from scratching my chicken pox too much. That's my big scar story. I really have no major scars.

Stupidity really gets me going, when it's just plain stupid, obvious stupidity.

I've got stress like anybody else, and it builds up during the day. Like, I'll be trying to do something on the computer, and I'll get stuck ,so I go to the help section. And it just enrages me, because why even call it a help section at all? There's nothing in any way 'helpful' about it.

One of the interesting things about comedy is it's tension release, and nothing creates tension faster than anger.

I'm amazed that anyone is interested in what I have to say.

Americans continue to rapidly homogenize ourselves into a neutered oblivion. For a country founded on the protection of the unique, we relish our sameness.

If you really think there's a Santa, why don't you sit on the front steps all night in the freezing cold and see if he climbs down any chimneys tonight. Good luck. And since we're a family that isn't lucky enough to have a chimney, how would Santa get into our house? Does he bring a locksmith with him? And it probably would have to be a Jewish locksmith, because a Christian locksmith is going to want to be home with his family. And how many Jewish locksmiths are there? None.