“I saw the corpse, and I called the cops. But not before I called a 1-800 phone sex number with the dead guy’s phone and credit card.”

“I remember my first cell phone number still. I may call it and ask to speak to myself from eight years ago. If they say I have the wrong number I’ll tell them, No, right number, wrong time.”

“It’s the same with cell phones. I never answer them up to my ear. I always put it on speakerphone and hold it six to eight inches away from my brain. Here’s an example of a phone call I recently received from an unknown number:-Hello?-Hi, Is Shehe there? -Yes. But S/he can’t talk right now, as it is very confused. But I’ll tell him or her that you called.”

“I collect collect calls from the 80s. I prefer them in mint condition, meaning the phone's still ringing.”

“The best way to dig yourself out of a hole, is with a dead guy’s fingernails. Then, once you’re out of the hole, finish burying that dead guy before the cops arrive.”

“I have a list of pet names for Cap’n so long that it could fill a phone book (if the phone book is for a town with a population of four). I call him Cap’n Boy, Sweet Boyo, My Little Boy (done in a British accent), and when he is misbehaving, You Little Shit.”

“Last week I placed a hand-written sign in front of my neighborhood that read, “Lost Mustache. Please do not feed. If found, contact Mouth,” and I left my phone number. Nobody’s called. Perhaps the neighborhood cat lady took it in and is petting it on her lap at this very moment. Ah, but that’s life, no?
”