Ever since I was blitzkrieged by an enraged German named Otto, a certain Dr. Barbie no longer exists for me, so if she was to ask me a question, I wouldn’t be able to hear and you’d have to repeat it.

Red states be damned. You’re gonna make great fathers.

Your wife has nice cans.

Excuse me, does anyone here happen to have a plate of jeebies? Because these two just gave me a big old scoop of the heebies. Seriously, it cannot just be me. I want to hear from the audience. I do. Dating in the workplace. She’s the boss. He’s the pretty intern. Tell me what’s bugging […]

You know, as a doctor, I rarely root for the disease, but with you I find myself cheering, Go hypercalcemia with underlying MEN syndrome! Go! Go! Go!” “

No, no, no, no. There is no way that you get to spring your little boy-toy here for a night of passionless passion while my ass is here and Jordan’s whispering sweet nothings to a shower nozzle. I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. We’ll leave it up to your interns. Who here doesn’t think […]

Something horrible just happened.

Please don’t make me go out with Barbie and, yes, I know it’s too easy, Ken.

What are you gonna do? Stay up late, eat raw cookie dough, and pinkie-swear your diet will start tomorrow?

That’s a hairless growth never found on women. It’s your last name, Ted.