Let me guess, you’re off to another funeral. I’ll make you a deal — you come with me right now, and if you’re still late for the graveyard, I will personally scour the obituaries with you this weekend and you can just go nuts!

I love the poetry of someone putting himself way up on a pedestal and then getting knocked the hell back down into this puddle of self-hatred…with the rest of us.

Twenty bucks says you kill him.

The guy’s a thousand. What’s he gonna do, take a steamer over to Europe, open up a café, and finally meet that nine hundred-year-old girl of his dreams?

God, I hate Halloween!

Are you actually saying you enjoy telling people their spouses are going to die?

Dammit, Laverne. Why can’t I ever be the one dying?

Congratulations. You get to represent the Kelso Kennel Club at the big show in Reno. Just remember, when you are posing and prancing in front of the judges, to keep that shaved behind of yours held up nice and high like the proud little puppy that you are. Then when it comes time to hand […]

Oh! Yawn.

Jordan. What a coincidence! You were in my dream last night. I can’t say for certain, but I was having the flesh torn from my bones by a cross-eyed water snake — you, right?