I’m not a religious person; I would call myself an atheist. I don’t have a good story behind it, I’m just reasonable.
I have a rare form of body dysmorphia in which I absolutely can’t stand how good I look.
This past Christmas, I told my girlfriend for months in advance that all I wanted was an Xbox. That’s it. Beginning and end of list, Xbox. You know what she got me? A homemade frame with a picture of us from our first date together. Which was fine. Because I got her an Xbox.
My girlfriend is despicable. I just found out she flirted with my brother, during my mom’s funeral, while I was asleep.
You’ll get my assault weapon when you pry it out of my curious six-year-old’s cold dead hands.
My girlfriend wants an open relationship. I said no way. What kind of man would I be if I had to tell my friends I date you?
Perhaps I’m being too optimistic, but I think this country is finally ready for a black serial killer.
Sure, retarded jokes write themselves. But the spelling is always way off.
I can’t talk politics with my cousin because he’s such a hypocrite. He’s against the death penalty and he hanged himself.
My dad was amazing. He raised five boys. All by himself. Without the rest of us knowing.
Who do you think was smarter, Jesus or Buddha? I mean, just in terms of not letting themselves get crucified.
I like to play pranks on my girlfriend, you know, keep things fresh for me, make me laugh, you know? She hates it. But like, the other night, I put Saran wrap over the toilet seat, you know, which doesn’t sound that original, but she’s bulimic.
I’ve always been fascinated by dark subjects, especially people’s reactions to them. Why are people so uncomfortable talking about death if everyone dies?
I don’t ever want to have kids of my own. But I do want a lot of kids.
In a late-night monologue, it’s not just about being funny; you have to come off as knowledgeable. You have to cultivate a persona of trust and intelligence and likeability.
Disgusting. I just found my grandpa’s Viagra. I swear, I almost puked from eating so many.
Childhood obesity affects all pedophiles.
Halloween is just a made up holiday, created by the razor blade industry.
My dad was a complicated man. He was a huge racist, my dad, but he still tried to be a good father, you know? Like, he would tell me that Santa Claus was black – that way, when I found out he didn’t exist, it wouldn’t be that big a let down.
I’ve got a long history of suicid in my family; the good news is it skips a generation, so, if I’m lucky, my kids will kill themselves.