I’m getting gray hair in all sorts of crazy places. Like all over my carpet. It’s like I live in a nursing home, except without all the sex.

“I’m at a point in my life where I feel like I can’t go anywhere. Maybe I’ll try…”

“The butcher died, and he requested to be cremated. But I don’t want to burn him…”

“I want to knit myself a skin-tight sweater, made out of human flesh.”

“My wife won’t talk to me, but that’s OK, because it’s not like I’d listen if sh…”