As the owner of a restaurant, if I were to witness a beautiful woman attempting to pour orange juice into a coffee cup, I would stop her politely and explain:
Only vodka goes in coffee cups, madame. The proper way to drink orange juice is from a collins glass brimming with white rum.
Here’s my receipt—I’d like to exchange this Moses for a better one.
I wonder if the watchers have triangulated our whereabouts yet.
If I were to act in a play, I would want the lead role, because I think that then the audience would look at me.
Some humans are like slow flowers because we take longer to die.
Fill-in-the-blank until all the world’s problems are solved.
My daily routine is to curse God loud and clear; but he ignores me because he thinks I’m only praying.
Come full circle and return to vulgarity.
If I were a dog, I would want my bark to sound like a cleaning cloth squeaking on a windowpane.
First you are born, and then your parents berate you, and then your teachers berate you, and then your bosses berate you. —That’s the beauty of life.
Even in sickness I’m prettier than a health nut.
The NEA and the NRA should engage in a staring contest. And whoever is a member of both groups receives a free mirror.
Precipitation is the atmosphere’s cummerbund.
It’s hard to know if you’re the one beating or the one being beaten.
May the blood of Christ wash away these birthday wishes.