More like sexily transmitted disease.
I would rather watch Alternate-Reality TV, like “166 and Pregnant.”
Today I had to call each and every one of my ex-girlfriends and tell them that I have OCD.
Do you think Jesus ever asked a Roman soldier, “Do you know who my father is?”
Kids, if your parents let you eat Reese’s Puffs cereal it’s because they don’t actually care about you.
Today the TV asked me, “Where would we be without creativity?” And I said, “I don’t know but I bet we’d still have this commercial.”
In case you didn’t know, today is national “Hug a Cop From Behind” day.
In the future, the sound of a heart rate monitor flatlining will be replaced with AOL’s “Goodbye” tone.
I’m writing off the stuff stolen from my car as a charitable deduction.
I’m developing a sitcom about my life. It’s called, “Friend.”
“Raise your hand if you think the ceiling fan is too low.”
I hope the oligarchs taking over this country have my best interests at heart.
I shouldn’t have tried to make an ice cream sandwich using real bread.
Happy New Year guys. We did it.
I’ve been going through people’s facebook photo album’s of their trips to India in an attempt to find myself.
My life is an ongoing brain injury.
Last night I drunk dialed my mom and told her that I love her but that we can never be together.
I’m really good at predicting the present.
For Christmas, my uncle got us all gag gifts. He’s really into BDSM.