I’m hypoglycemic and squeamish and liable to pass out at the first sign of blood. That happened this morning. I came into the kitchen and found blood on the floor, right next to a few dead hookers.

“I want a house with a garage, so someone from the government won’t try to park …”

“I have the world’s third largest fourth place. I keep it in my empty trophy cab…”

“My new mustache is barely big enough to cover my pubic region.”

“The book “Little Women,” what, is that about midgets? I freaking love midgets.”