It’d be great to be so famous that if I murder someone, I will never, ever, ever serve any jail time, even if it’s totally obvious to everyone that I did it.
Albums that remind me of my childhood happiness make me incredibly sad now.
When smart people are nice, it’s always terrifying, because I know they’re taking in everything and thinking all kinds of smart and potentially judgmental things.
He was so popular you could barely look at him without being blinded by cool.
Besides, who wants to read about success, anyway? Successful serial murderers, maybe.
To put it kindly, I am a very talkative, social person. To put it less kindly, I’m a flibbertigibbet, which is what my frenemy Rainn Wilson calls me.
I guess nothing puts a damper on a one-night stand as much as your friend pointing out all the opportunities where you might have been killed.
If I can muster up any allure in my life, at this stage, I wouldn’t mind doing that.
What? I have a cold. Don’t get a look of terror on your face. The worst that could happen is that you’ll get a cold, too. You don’t have to theatrically Purell a thousand times a day and look all panicky every time I come into the room.
You might also see that some of my playlists are simply two songs on repeat fifteen times, like I’m a psycho getting pumped up to murder the president.
For heaven’s sake, if you don’t know someone’s name, just pretend you do. Do that thing everyone else does, where you vaguely say, “Nice to see you!” and make weak eye contact.
Why didn’t you talk about whether women are funny or not? I just felt that by commenting on that in any real way, it would be tacit approval of it as a legitimate debate, which it isn’t.
Everyone has a moment when they discover they love Amy Poehler.
I think sometimes people think cheerful is a synonym for dumb, so no one is ever cheerful.
Is this a generation of orphans who are going to the improv to do stand-up?
Also, chubby people can never truly pull off ethereal the same way skinny people can never be jolly.
My parents were supportive of my creativity but did not have a lot of patience for whimsy with zero production value. They had stuff to do.
Future hipsters will love me ironically.
My dad is funny in his own way, and so is my brother, but in terms of legitimately making a lot of people laugh, that’s my mom. I inherit my sense of comedy from her.
If I’m at a party where I’m not enjoying myself, I will put some cookies in my jacket pocket and leave without saying good-bye.