What does it mean to be the best? It means you have to be better than the number two guy. But what gratification is there in that? He's a loser—that’s why he's number two.

Your deceit smells like a fake mustache. Nobody stole my facial hair. I shaved this morning and donated half of it to the Humane Society. The other half I kept for sentimental petting reasons.

Something’s different about Mr. Different. The same can’t be said about Ms. Same. The two would make the best lovers, but that’s impossible, because I’m the best lover.

My grandmother is dating a grandfather clock, and I’ve started wearing a wristwatch on my ankle. I also wear my love for Agatha like a raincoat, and I am jealous of every umbrella I see.

I haven’t shaved in days. There are literally thousands of peaches waiting for me. I’ve been so busy loving that I haven’t been able to assist the Official Barber of Georgia.

I once saw a politician walking a dog, and I thought, “How absurd—an animal walking an animal.” Then I thought, “If given the choice, I’d rather vote for the dog.

- A pan czy wierzy w duchy - spytał prelegenta jeden ze słuchaczy.- Oczywiście, że nie - odparł prelegent, po czym z wolna rozpłynąłsię w powietrzu.

Youth, I didn’t want that illness. Luckily I recovered just in time for middle age. Now I can focus on more important things, like love, a relationship, and my upcoming existential crisis.

The very thing keeping me alive is also killing me—love. No wonder the rose symbolizes both love and death. They should have a deal where if you buy a dozen roses you get a free headstone.

If you just found out you had six months left to live, the first thing I’d do is apologize for not delivering the letter 182 days ago, when your doctor first handed it to me to hand to you.

My bathtub is big enough for two people to fit comfortably in separate showers. I’m the kind of lover that Lowe’s home improvement salesmen who are working for commission dream about.

-I have this friend—you don’t know him—but—
-Is his name Molloway?
-No.
-Oh. I don’t know anybody named Molloway, so that’s why I was asking.

A good server knows how to be seen, yet remain invisible. I was a great server, and I achieved invisibility by never showing up for work. My boss ended up firing me, probably over petty jealousy.

Boy, the DMV has got to be the strangest dating agency. But I suppose love is worth the wait. If I don’t meet a woman here, there’s this new club called The Morgue I want to check out.

Under the fatal lighting of that destiny, its uselessness becomes evident. No code of ethics and no effort are justifiable a priori in the face of the cruel mathematics that command our condition.