At this stage in my life, the only practical benefit to regular exercise is improving my sexual attractiveness. (Health? I’m good, thanks. I voted for Obama, and he’s got me covered there.) I’ll pick up a dumbbell when the other channels of attracting women become obsolete.
When my family gathers, we collectively devolve into sadists.
My first acting role was in a third grade Valentine’s Day-themed play called “Princess Lonely Heart.” It was one of those low-budget cafetorium shows for parents to waste their camcorders’ batteries on their child’s struggle to remember lines.
Whenever I hear the word "racism," I think back to a friend I had in second grade named Christopher. Christopher, it turned out, wasn't big on black people. One afternoon, the two of us were playing on a jungle gym when two black boys asked to join us.
Never take good porn for granted.
During a Boy Scouts hiking trip, my friend Jerry gave me some important advice:
Classic "man versus beast" tales feature bears or sharks. Mine features a cat named Monkey.
From the moment we're born, we're all guilty of something.
When I was in the fifth grade, my teacher introduced a new weekly competition called "Student of the Week." Every Friday afternoon she would saunter out from behind her desk, a freshly word-processed certificate in hand, and appoint one poor soul to a weeklong sentence of hatred from his or her peers.
Road rage truly brings out the worst in us. All it takes is a Buick to cut me off during rush hour for me to rethink my position on social security.
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