He looks like a cancer-ridden Make-A-Wish kid who somehow gamed the system.

Cats kill rodents better than anything else we’ve invented, and a law that fails to account for that is a bad law.

Don’t ever go into a NYC bodega, my dude.

It’s Homer, Alaska, so I’m guessing that every nitwit in fishing boots is already trailing enough halibut and salmon guts through the front door to keep the Alaska Department Of Environmental Conservation’s Food Safety And Sanitation Program Department Of Long Names And Even Less Useful Actions Mandated By State Law…

That’s a wicked awesome birthday present.

I’m trying to give my shawls away—but there’s thousands of them.

Perhaps the whitest thing I’ll say this year: I’m taking my mother to see Fleetwood Mac at TD Garden for her birthday.

That’s nothing compared to Steven Seagal’s Ham Vault!

I was hoping she would have a name for each one. “Come Esmeralda, I choose you today.”

This is about the level of crazy that I would hope for, if not need, from her

“You’re insulting all the hate-worshipping Americans I represent!”

Also “your favorite president,” like he’s the host of a children’s cartoon show.

“Remember to choose love over hate in the next election.”

That dictatorial “your president” phrase Trump uses bothers me more (this week) than anything else he does. But it’s Monday.

They know that calling someone a racist is an insult because they get butthurt every time someone says it to them.  That’s about it.

I’m beginning to think world’s famous birther Donald Trump and his Death Cult don’t know what the fuck “racism” means.

It speaks volumes that President Fuckup automatically assumes a comment made about racism in general is about him.

We know, but he did lose the popular vote so we didn't actually pick him. 

He still thinks that the Central Park 5 are guilty despite DNA evidence proving otherwise.

Ugh. I’d say, “Do you even know how racism works, bro?” but it’s clear from his past actions that he does.