More people are leaving TV behind to read my books than ever before. In the last year alone I gained over two readers (three, to be exact). So I’d like to take a moment and...

The silence sounded like a fire alarm in my ears.

No matter how much water a sink takes on, it never lives up to its name. The Titanic would never have sunk if it were made out of a sink.

It’s just a dream, I told myself. I hate when I dream of alarm clocks going off.

I called her twice, but she didn’t call me back. She’s more efficient than me, as she’s able to communicate without communicating. It’s sad, because I had two cups of coffee, and I was going...

Is a picture really worth a thousand words? What thousand words? A thousand words from a lunatic, or a thousand words from Nietzsche? Actually, Nietzsche was a lunatic, but you see my point. What about...

When I see a cop’s lights behind me at two in the morning, and I have my disco ball dangling from my rearview mirror, it’s like, Hey, a party! Especially if I’ve been drinking.

When I get angry I tend to raise my voice—with a forklift. Hang on to my handlebar mustache if you want me to peddle faster.

The other day I went to the Huddle House. I wasn’t hungry, I just wanted to call some plays.

Who would you rather make love to—me, or the dead carcass of a deer? Don’t deliver a hasty answer. Think it over.

If laughter came in paste format you could squeeze out of a tube, I’ll bet nine out of ten dentists would recommend comedy before bed. The tenth doctor, having just read Tolstoy as deliberately mistranslated...

I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is that your house hasn’t burned down, you don’t have cancer, and your daughter hasn’t been raped or murdered. The bad news is...

He doesn’t have sex with sheep—he sleeps with scapegoats. He is my father, and I haven’t seen him since before I was born.

When I think of you, I immediately think of someone else. That’s what I call love, and that’s why I never call you.

I’m twice as old as she is tall. She’s half my age in height. We have a David and Goliath kind of love.

Many people wonder, is my love a llama—or an alpaca? The answer, is yes.

A brick could be used as a paperweight, if the words you wrote weren’t weighty enough to hold it down.

My love is like the shape your mouth makes while you whistle. Would you mind if I accompanied you on my harmonica?

I have a phobia of balloons—and other sharp objects. I also have a fear of too much love—giving, not getting.

A brick could be used to sell new shoes to a man with no hands. I would say a brick could be used to sell a handless man new gloves, but that’s a bit of...

I went to a potluck. I brought my own pot—and luck. The pot was empty, just like my promise to bring food the next time.

I had tons of fun, minus 3,999 pounds.

A brick is a lot like love. I mean, I’m sure it is. It simply must be. However, I can’t think of how at the moment, but that’s natural, because I’m not Cupid. OK, here’s...

Question for your life: If you could change War’s name, do you think you’d change its nature?

A brick could be used as a stamp on a letter, to increase the weight and boost the cost and profitability of the postal service. It would be government efficiency at its finest.

I once watched several criminals engage in an organized argument, while an audience of supporters cheered them on, but I was so disgusted that I had to turn off the political debate.

Nothing, Everything, Anything, Something: If you have nothing, then you have everything, because you have the freedom to do anything, without the fear of losing something.

There’s a relentless wave of WTF coming out of Washington DC.

The truth is I did try to stab him. I tried to stab him with a butter knife. Why? Because it seemed deadlier than trying to stab him with a melting stick of butter.

Handcuffs barely wrap around the girth of my penis. I should run for Congress.

In a battle of believability, the winner is the one with the best body language, not the clearest logic.

Do you ever wonder if you’re the antichrist? I do. Not for myself of course, but I think you’re the devil.

There’s truth in what you say, even though it’s all lies.

Mr. Shit gives politicians a good name. It’s the rest of the politicians who give Mr. Shit a bad name.

Reading a book is like having the ability to dip a straw into the author’s soul and sip and slurp without lowering the water table of wisdom.

I wish somebody would combine tasers and dildos, and test the devices out on all the politicians in Washington DC. Well, all the politicians except Barney Frank, who’d actually derive pleasure from the experiment.

At first, the drudgery of mastering your craft is a prison—boring, slow, and with an awareness of how much time you’ll have to put in. But somewhere along your prison sentence, you come to see...

If I had no clothes it’d be winter. If I were naked, it’d be the truth and we could lie together.

swimod.” Afterwards I felt like I was drowning in foolishness.

I want to keep politics out of my breakfast. Politics isn’t something I want in my eggs, no matter how scrambled I like them.

A nugget of wisdom is more valuable than a nugget of gold—and considerably harder to pan out of a river. I’ll be 33 in March, and all I’ve found so far is fool’s gold. Still,...

Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes. You can’t fool an old sheep like me. To prove it, I’ll tell you that I’ve been continuously voting for the same person for president for...

To find my mistakes, you’re going to need a shovel—and a missing person’s list.

There aren’t two political parties in this country, it’s all just one big party—and the citizens aren’t invited.

Alone is just another word for love.

Nobody is either honest or dishonest. Life is a gradient, and a saint might be an 8.7, and a dirtbag politician might be a 1.2. Interestingly, piss and shit are numerically represented by 1 and...

I was part of a focus group once, but to be honest, I couldn’t concentrate.

My life story is 75% true. But which quarter is a lie? Better check my pants pockets—the one the politician’s wearing.

If a woman named Ms. Silver won a gold medal, she’d probably be a little disappointed she didn’t place second. My love always finishes first, while my love always comes second.

If I say your breasts are perfect, don’t tell me I’m wrong—prove me wrong by showing me. If more people voted with their wallets, more strippers would be elected officials.