Thanksgiving is a holiday that brought together two different cultures. And things might not always work out like you think they should. But they always work out. I'm thankful that the world's in perfect harmony at all times. Pilgrims had it tough. But now, we live in the strongest, most prosperous country in the world. And the Indians, well, you know.
Sisters ruin everything. It's in their job description.
Vengeance, is good. You give it, you get it. It's all part of what makes us human. So thank god for vengeance. Otherwise, the human race might as well just roll over and let another species for a while. I think it will be the cats. Watch 'em. They're cooking up something.
Anyone look back at their high school career and just shudder at what you got away with and didn't die?
My father, never chooses me for anything. If you needed a kidney and I offered him mine, well, pfft. Well, he'd take it 'cos he was dying. It's not that he doesn't love me, 'cos he does. It's just that special kind of love that feels like neglect.
There's a one in six billion chance you'll find your soul mate. And that's if they're not dead. At best they're probably living in some Siberian ice cave eating bugs and weaving beads into their back hair. But they're out there. My dad believed that to find your perfect soul mate, first, you had to look through a bunch of other guys' soul mates.
Nobody's really happy. And as soon as society realises that you can't trust anyone and that hardship is a natural part of existence, the sooner the therapists will realise that they are worthless! Sorry. They have worth deficit disorder!
All of Dad's relationships ended exactly the same: subpoena, beep of a moving van backing up the driveway, pile of his clothes burning on the front lawn.
The towers fell, and the first thing that went through my head was my dad's voice: 'Well, you brought a new life into the world, and the world's over. Nice timing, numbnuts!
Normal people, fear the day their parents die. Screwed up people, fear the day their parents kill. My mum killed a guy, at my wedding. So I can pretty much check that off. But, she's my mum. And no matter what she did I just can't walk away from her. She gave me birth. She gave me love. She gave me the ability to make a cigarette fire look like it was started by the hot water heater.
If you're a racist, right now, in 2011... You just look like a retard, man.
Japan is the perfect example of make plans, and watch God laugh.
How come Mom is crazy and I'm not? Well, it's possible my mom could stand up in front of this many people and talk about all the crap in her life and those people could have sat around and laughed with her, it would've meant nothing and she could have moved on cool. It's also possible she could have taken out the whole front row with a large-caliber weapon.
At the millennium we partied like it was 1999. And then we had a 10 year bathtub tequila hangover, man. Just hugging the metaphorical toilet on a daily basis.
We're looking for answers in a landfill instead of looking to people who bring the light.
Terrorists, oh I'm sorry, Fox News tells us it's all illegal immagration's fault but it's not their fault, it's ours.
Osama's dead. Why is the terror alert elevated or imminent? Why not chill? Can't I just fly, keep my shoes on and avoid X-ray-fueled testicular cancer?
Does anyone ever shudder with the crap that you pulled off and didn't die?
We are brought into this world cold, weak, and helpless. Then it gets worse.
The government favors the most diplomatic language. That's why any letter to them should always start with, "Dear turkeys and foul maggots..."
Born free. Taxed to death.
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