Dysmorphia is when someone looks in the mirror, and sees something else. While I studied my own whatever I was, I decided that maybe everyone has at least a touch of dysmorphia; maybe it's impossible for anyone to ever truly know what they look like.

Have you ever been to a picnic? And someone blows up a balloon, and everyone starts tossing it around, and it's always just about to touch the ground, but someone always gets there just in time to tap it back up? That balloon, that's God, the very best in all of us, the kindness, the heavy petting, Funny Girl! ...Evil bores me. It's just one note. It doesn't sing! Oh, of course life sucks! It always will. So why not make the most of it?

I think people who make checklists are the most miserable and alone because they are looking for the perfect Entenmann's that is delicious and has no calories. Please, you want a brunette with a sense of humor, a doctorate and HIV-negative status? Good luck, honey. Love isn't so frequent that you can put conditions on it.

Most convicted felons are just people who were not taken to museums or Broadway musicals as children.

Whenever I stumble over my own feet, or blurt out a thought that makes no sense at all, or leave the house wearing one pattern too many, I always think, 'It's okay, I'm from New Jersey.' I love New Jersey, because it's not just an all-purpose punch line, but probably a handy legal defense, as in 'Yes, I shot my wife because I thought she was Bigfoot, but I'm from New Jersey.'

Most gay bashers will be wearing what gay people had on four years earlier - only in polyester with a Penney's label.

I just hate that gay role models are supposed to be just like straight people, as if even straight people are like that.