Stop looking at me or die.

I’m afraid you have me confused with somebody who gives a crap. And it’s okay, you don’t need to be embarrassed, turns out it happens all the time. For instance, my father actually made the same mistake on his death bed.

Lemme go ahead and share a little something special with you that I like to call Perry’s Perspective. One: If someone’s standing in front of me in line at the coffee shop and they can’t decide what they want in the half an hour it took to get to the register, I should be allowed […]

Long story short, there, Molly, I will always whistle at you like you’re a blonde with big bombs and I’m a construction worker just released from prison. That clear?

You’re right, Newbie, we have been working together for a while. Of course, I wouldn’t know the exact number of days unless I consulted my Friends For Life calendar that I keep taped inside my hope chest.

Out of my way, space-waster!

I’m gonna go ahead and put this in a language that you can understand: You had better see my son now, or I’m gonna kick your ass.

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.

Wedding talk! Ohh, how lovely! — Listen, Hilton sisters: Mr. Quinn in 206 still has a severely shattered clavicle and he needs a surgical consult now. And, seeing as he’s your patient, and you’re a surgeon, gosh, I was hoping that if you two hens have an extra moment between choosing centerpieces and deciding just […]

Hey, studly! Now, when you were out rooting through the dumpster, you didn’t stumble across your own testicles, did’ja?