“Those dads that go off to Florida and start a new life, I couldn’t imagine that: seeing my kid once every Christmas, every three years. If I’m gone for six days it feels like too much”

I got drunk in Canada. I was there for 2 days but I was drunk there for 4 days. I don’t know how it worked. I guess it was with the time difference or something.

I swear my car won’t run unless I’m picking my nose: At least, I’m that superstitious about it, so I don’t want to take any chances.

But the idea that I was making $10 an hour and stacking drywall while these guys were making a few hundred thousand, and they were having a party, and there were Playmates and there were good times, I just couldn’t imagine it.

The main thing that I learned from my horrible job experiences was how horrible they were.

If you are tuning in just for the show, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.

The reason why you know more funny dudes than funny chicks is that dudes are funnier than chicks.

I’ve always boxed, I always taught boxing.

If you want to have a good life, you should focus on your family, on your business, on your dog, on your fun, and you’ll have a good life.

My mom was on welfare and the occasional food stamp, but I have never participated in any of those governmental programs, even the ones that kind of work like education, scholarships and whatever, and I managed to do just fine.

If you spend your life walking through somebody else’s museum, you never find out whether you’re Rembrandt or not.

We’ve got black and white, we’ve got Hispanic and Asian, we got gay, straight, and Guttenberg, all working together for one common goal: to get the mirror ball.

Rich people don’t pay taxes? Of course they pay taxes – they pay tons in taxes. They pay for everyone else who doesn’t pay taxes.

Wearing Crocs is like getting blown by a dude. It feels great until you look down and realize you’re gay.

[Giving welfare to poor people] is the equivalent of the government sending [fat people] a jumbo bag of Bugles in the mail twice a month.

The believe-in-yourself adage is grossly overrated.

My motto is “more mystery, less history”.

At this time of year it’s easy to forget the true meaning of Christianity – the lies, the corruption, the abuse.

Next to a circus there ain’t nothing that packs up and tears out faster than the Christmas spirit.

Everybody loves a good Christmas song if you do it right.

A Clinical Study. Taking some time to read each night really taught me how to feign narcolepsy when my husband asked me what my “plan” was for taking down the Christmas tree.

I prefer the retro chic of spending Christmas just like Joseph and Mary did – Traveling arduously back to the place of your birth to be counted, with no guarantee of a bed when you get there.

Every Christmas Eve, the elves will come and give us a new pair of pajamas.

My husband is so cheap. On Christmas Eve, he fires one shot and tells the kids Santa committed suicide.

Christmas in the Underworld was NOT my idea. If I’d known what was coming, I would’ve called in sick. I could’ve avoided an army of demons, a fight with a Titan, and a trick that almost got my friends and me cast into eternal darkness. But no, I had to take my stupid English exam.