Watching human intelligence negotiate a 4-way stop is all the evidence I need. We'll never have hoverboards.

Honey, a word of caution: I don't think weight watchers has assigned a point value to penis.

Nobody power slides a family sedan into a drive-thru lane like this motherfucker. That Ronald McDonald statue was a casualty of awesome.

I assume that God himself only goes to church to keep a woman happy.

Yes, it's fucking awesome when I'm trying to help you and you strike up a conversation with everyone who passes. By all means, continue.

Sir I will call your disdainful stare and raise you a vocabulary of polysyllabic words and a command of personal hygiene. Read em and weep.

It's not home until you've taken your first piss in the shower.

In a town this size the only thing that keeps me from hitting on relatives is our hereditary alcohol-defying ugliness.

I feel that by not raising me Catholic my parents robbed me of an excuse to be fucked up.

I went downtown today and wasn't propositioned, panhandled, or approached. I'd take the credit, but really, the shotgun did all the work.

I have a neighbor who keeps her cat on a leash and constantly baby talks to it. I must admit - I'll miss her when the mother ship returns.

I'm terribly out of shape. I'm petty and spiteful. I hang out at gas stations.


At some point, without realizing it, I became a cop.

When being able to "contentedly spend 6 work hours doing nothing" becomes a valuable skill I shall conquer this world.

Pro Tip: if you're going to smell your armpit in the elevator, think of your excuse *before* the door opens.

In my experience, bathrooms labeled "Gentlemen" are exquisitely poor judges of character.

I thought that there was no appropriate way to end a morning such as this. And then an Asian student ran into me with her bicycle.

I'm not surprised that my drunken piss kills the grass.

I'm surprised at how fast it works.

One cousin spent the weekend in juvenile, another is pregnant for the first time. My god, the bar for me just gets lower by the day.

If I'm ever going to be good at this Twitter thing, I'll need a wife, some kids, maybe a dog. Tweets about masturbation only go so far.

"I think it's sexy how your calf and ankle are the same size" will henceforth be removed from my lady playbook.