Category: Quips

Listen, girlfriend, I don’t wanna hear your misguided romantic notions. You see, for me, sex is a sport — like racquet-ball: You play hard for a half an hour, work up a sweat, and hope you don’t get hit in the eye.

I mean, come on, Jordan, you haven’t let me make one decision about our son. Which is why, by the way, you’ll be doing the answering when he asks why daddy’s wee-wee doesn’t have a turtleneck on it like his.

Sure, is he in fact a latex-encased robot with real human hair and a circuit board where his heart should be? I can’t…I can’t rule that out.

This is my new imaginary warning light. Whenever it starts blinking, a situation has ten seconds to resolve itself before I flash white with rage and kill someone.

I’m a doctor. And we believe that without surgery, a patient in your condition can suffer from a major case of deadness.