My mother swears by her doctor. He's a good man, that Dr. Ugs.

I was first demonstrated the physical properties of sex using a hot dog and a donut as props. Discoveries later in life led to a lot of anguish and broken hotdogs.

If there's ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag, what the hell is that bag made of?

In the server I play Half-Life 2: Deathmatch on, some hurt feelings led to it being against the rules to spawnkill. Despite the change, Mr. McFarlane never did come back.

I shave with a straight edge razor. I realize the irony daily.

Why is it called a tophat? I fear to learn that there was ever any other place for them.

Why is felt such an insensitive material to wear?

I wish I could be a geologist; I would always have an excuse to study cleavage.

I want to release a board game all about unimportant furry facts. I'd call it Trivial Fursuit.

I think, somewhere, there is an evil parallel dimension version of Tamar the Ebony Leopard, and he produces a comic called Breeders.

Do cholos do everything elbows up, side to side? Elevator rides must be a bitch.

I used to think 'hard candy' was a poor man's viagra.

I've had a Snickers. Big disappointment; not even a chortle.

In Spanish soap operas, I have determined how to follow the plot without knowing the language: Evil women will never cry, good women will cry constantly without provocation, and the evil woman has hired a hitman to kill the lawyer in the chicken suit. I'm not kidding.

I often partake of gumballs. They're delicious; I wonder how the rest of them tastes.

I once met a MtF in a relationship with a FtM. Either that, or they really liked my confused chimp face.

Garlic and Onion macadamia nuts: tasty treat, and antisocialite's wet dream.

I'm no chemist, and as a result, lathering up with glycerine soap makes me nervous.

A friend of mine wants to be a prophetic luchador named El Paco Lips.