“When I was a kid, I’d leave my door cracked with a piece of lint on top, and if I came home and the lint was on the floor, I’d know there’d been an intruder in my room. Of course, I shared a room with the washer and dryer, so this led to many false accusations.”

“She was in a coma, and had been unresponsive for years. Every Tuesday I’d visit her and read to her, and as I’d leave I’d always say, “I love you,” as I’d kiss her on her forehead. One day as I was leaving, I said my normal I love you and kissed her, when her eyes popped open, she looked directly into my eyes, smiled, and then she said, “Spaghetti for brains albino idea weasel.” And that was when I stabbed her with a piece of garlic toast. It seemed like the most appropriate response. The police didn’t seem to agree, and I could tell by the way they bagged the evidence in a To Go box that they thought I was the lowest of the low, lower perhaps than even a politician. Well, not quite that low, but certainly with the cockroaches, vultures, and aids-infested vampires.”

“I came from a broken home. My bedroom window was cracked.”

“I’d rate his work at four stars. Of course, he is a general, so maybe I could pin my rating on his lapel.”

“If my love were a bagel, I’d put cream cheese on it. But it’s not a bagel, so I just put cheddar on top. Would you like to try a sample?”

“I wrote this piece because my mailbox was full of bills, junk mail, and lettuce, but not a single letter from Andre Breton. So I decided I’d write to him (though I did eat my first two drafts).”

“I think the two greatest inventions in the history of mankind are the remote control and the fingernail clipper. Now, if someone could just combine those two, I’d be very eager to clip my nails from across the room.”