You know what would make a good story? Something about a clown who make people happy, but inside he's real read more

You know what would make a good story? Something about a clown who make people happy, but inside he's real sad. Also, he has severe diarrhea.

Sometimes, when I drive across the desert in the middle of the night, with no other cars around, I start read more

Sometimes, when I drive across the desert in the middle of the night, with no other cars around, I start imagining: What if there were no civilization out there? No cities, no factories, no people? And then I think: No people or factories? Then who made this car? And this highway? And I get so confused I have to stick my head out the window into the driving rain---unless there's lightning, because I could get struck on the head by a bolt.

It takes a big man to cry, but it takes a bigger man to laugh at that man.

It takes a big man to cry, but it takes a bigger man to laugh at that man.

To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other.

To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other.

I'd like to see a nude opera, because when they hit those high notes, I bet you can really see read more

I'd like to see a nude opera, because when they hit those high notes, I bet you can really see it in those genitals.

Life, to me, is like a quiet forest pool, one that needs a direct hit from a big rock half-buried read more

Life, to me, is like a quiet forest pool, one that needs a direct hit from a big rock half-buried in the ground. You pull and you pull, but you can't get the rock out of the ground. So you give it a good kick, but you lose your balance and go skidding down the hill toward the pool. Then out comes a big Hawaiian man who was screwing his wife beside the pool because they thought it was real pretty. He tells you to get out of there, but you start faking it, like you're talking Hawaiian, and then he gets mad and chases you...

I guess we were all guilty, in a way. We all shot him, we all skinned him, and we all read more

I guess we were all guilty, in a way. We all shot him, we all skinned him, and we all got a complimentary bumper sticker that said, "I helped skin Bob.".

If I lived back in the wild west days, instead of carrying a six-gun in my holster, I'd carry a read more

If I lived back in the wild west days, instead of carrying a six-gun in my holster, I'd carry a soldering iron. That way, if some smart-aleck cowboy said something like "Hey, look. He's carrying a soldering iron!" and started laughing, and everybody else started laughing, I could just say, "That's right, it's a soldering iron. The soldering iron of justice." Then everybody would get real quiet and ashamed, because they had made fun of the soldering iron of justice, and I could probably hit them up for a free drink.

I can't stand cheap people. It makes me real mad when someone says something like, "Hey, when are you going read more

I can't stand cheap people. It makes me real mad when someone says something like, "Hey, when are you going to pay me that $100 you owe me?" or "Do you have that $50 you borrowed?" Man, quit being so cheap!