I’m putty in her hands. Out of her hands, I’m more like clay.


“Based solely on the mustache, who would you rather be: Mark Twain, Rollie Finge…”

“Nothing is certain but death and taxidermy.”

“Two mustaches walk into a bar, and the bartender said, “Can I get you a drink?”…”

“I want to say something so embarrassing about September that even the leaves st…”