I have a friend who’s into meth, but I’m still going to invite him to my Christmas party. Not only do I want to reach out to him, but I also feel like he’ll be easy to beat if we play Jenga.

I don’t think it would be that great to be a snowman, staring out at a world blanketed in snow. It must be like you standing in your front yard, seeing your own neighborhood covered in six inches of freshly fallen human viscera.

I felt cranky this morning because I woke up on the wrong side of the driveway again.

I wouldn’t take a million dollars from Ed McMahon if he showed up on my doorstep. My standards may be low, but I draw the line at accepting money from corpses.

I just sneezed and got little droplets all over my computer monitor, and they act like little magnifying lenses so they’re all twinkling different colors. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

It isn’t a midlife crisis if it kills you instantly.

Mark my words: One day the South will rise again! Then it’ll take a leak, finish off that can of Mountain Dew and go back to bed.