1. Well, this day was a total waste of makeup.

2. Make yourself at home! Clean my kitchen.

3. A hard-on doesn’t count as personal growth.

4. Don’t bother me. I’m living happily ever after.

5. Do I look like a freakin’ people person?

6. This isn’t an office. It’s Hell with fluorescent lighting.

7. I started out with nothing & still have most of it left.

8. I pretend to work. They pretend to pay me.

9. If I throw a stick, will you leave?

10. You! Off my planet!

11. I like cats, too. Let’s exchange recipes.

12. Ambivalent? Well, yes and no.

13. Did the aliens forget to remove your anal probe?

14. Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed.

15. Suburbia: where they tear out the trees & then name streets after them.

16. Do they ever shut up on your planet?

17. I’m just working here till a good fast-food job opens up.

18. Are those your eyeballs? I found them in my cleavage.

19. I’m not your type. I’m not inflatable.

20. I’m trying to imagine you with a personality.

21. A cubicle is just a padded cell without a door.

22. Stress is when you wake up screaming & you realize you haven’t fallen asleep yet.

23. Don’t worry. I forgot your name, too!

24. Adults are just kids who owe money.

25. You say I’m a bitch like it’s a bad thing.

26. Nice perfume. Must you marinate in it?

27. Too many freaks, not enough circuses.

28. Chaos, panic, & disorder - my work here is done.

29. If I want to hear the pitter patter of little feet, I’ll put shoes on my cat.

30. You look like shit. Is that the style now?

31. Earth is full. Go home.

32. Is it time for your medication or mine?

33. Does this condom make me look fat?

34. I plead contemporary insanity.

35. And which dwarf are you?

36. I thought I wanted a career, turns out I just wanted paychecks.

37. How do I set a laser printer to stun?

38. Meandering to a different drummer.

39. I’m not tense, just terribly, terribly alert.

40. I majored in liberal arts. Will that be for here or to go?

A stoner stumbles out of a party, and starts to walk home.

One the way he bumps into a guy who is all bloody and mangled.

The guy limps up to the stoner and says “Call me an ambulance!”

The stoner looks at him for a second, smiles and says, “You’re an ambulance!”

My genitals are so gigantic, and yours so woefully inadequate, that evolution laughs at you and promises that your male offspring will also be cursed with your ridiculous nubbin — thus dooming your DNA!

My genitals are so sweetly intoxicating, I was able to convince Cornel West and Camille Paglia to violently disrobe and vigorously copulate with me in a Chablis-fueled, mind-bending threesome that made the seraphim in paradise blush with a mixture of shame and desire!

My genitals are so leviathan that Ahab himself, if he were rendered a non-fictional creature, would surely stand upon his masts crows nest and lob mighty harpoons at me!

If the teaming masses were to behold my juggernaut-like genitals, surely Marx’s concept of the End of History would be nigh.

My genitals are of such behemoth proportions, it is to the world of genitalia what Noam Chomsky is to the study of global activism!

My genitals are so mammoth in size, that if inches were words, my member could fill every page of one of Ayn Rand’s epic Objectivist tomes!

A fine 1997 Chateau-La Cardonne Bordeaux would go well with my robust and flavorful genitals, even after the third helping!

My genitals are so bursting with sexual magnetism, I could single-handedly seduce and defile the entire lesbian population of Sarah Lawrence University!

My genitals bloat with such passionate force, that upon arousal, I barely have enough epidermis to purse my lips so that I may recite Shelley’s immortal poem “Ozymandias”!

If Philip Glass wrote an ambient opera in honor of my genitals, the title of the epic collection of random notes and sounds would be “Phantasmagoric Ode To Big Dong Number Five.”!

Hemingway”’’s lost book about my genitals began thusly: “His organ was big.”

My virility is so profoundly cosmic, that in the event that every human male were to cease to be, my limitless supplies of genetically super-human semen could impregnate the remaining female population, thus siring a perfect race of confident, and impressively endowed men!

Tired Freudian references aside - your mother played my mighty skin flute like a surf crowned sea nymph trying to rouse Poseidon from his watery slumber!

Kurt Anderson secretly admires the cultural relevancy of my genitals, which have supplied artists and writers alike the inspiration needed to create great American works, and this admiration turned to sour envy when he ignored my zippered muse and wrote that appalling “Turn of the Century” that many have mistakenly referred to as a “novel”!

So colossal are my genitals, that they compelled Stephen Hawking to theorize that my sexual gravity is such that a tablespoon of it would weigh more than an entire LA club full of amorous, cocaine-addled, Prada-clad Casanovas!

My genitals are comparable to Harvard University’s endowment - both are the largest of their kind, both are institutions that demand the respect of academics and undergraduate trollops, and both cannot be seen or used by anyone of low birth or intelligence, unless they work very hard to prove they are worthy.

A pancake that has fallen on the kitchen floor and you are very hungry for a pancake, but when you pick the pancake up you find the gooey syrup and the creamy butter are like flypaper and so your spongey, yummy pancake is covered in lint, dustmites, a splotch of still-moist mustard from the night before, a broken match, a dirty fingernail, and of course millions of squirming, pulsing bacteria. Also: the pancake now smells like bellybutton, so you puke. But your stomach is empty so you dry heave, and now the pancake is covered in your early morning bile. Anyway, you’re so hungry so you eat the pancake.

Man, that is totally gross.

What did the ghost shake at the party?
Her boOoOo-ty

Who was the ghosts favorite former UN Secretary General?
BoOoOo-trous BoOoOo-trous Ghali

What disease frightens ghosts the most?
BoOoOo-bonic Plague

What do ghosts use to make beef or chicken broth?
BoOoOo-llion cubes

What sound do crying ghosts make?
BoOoOo-hoo

What was the ghosts favorite TV show?
BoOoOo-ffy the Vampire Slayer

Who was the ghosts favorite conservative intellectual?
William F. BoOoOo-ckley

What’s the difference between girl ghosts and boy ghosts?
BoOoOo-bies

Who was the ghost’s favorite crooner?
Pat BoOoOo-ne

What sound do ghost bombs make?
BoOoOo-m

Why are there no amusement parks in China?
Because no one is tall enough to ride the rides!

I don’t know where you got your face from, but i hope you have the receipt.

You so ugly, yo mama had to feed you with a slingshot!

You sing so well you belong on a stage……. coach one leaves in five minutes!