I can go either way.

He's gonna let me ghost write it.

That was, like, 40 years ago!

The whole system is breaking down!

My father was a lobsterman. He got up every morning at four and came home every night stinking of brine. He sent me through law school with the lobsters he caught!

I don't need you to tell me what I don't want, you stupid hipster doofus!

That was a hell of thing when Spock died.

You combined food and sex in to one disgusting, uncontrollable urge.

You mean… shrinkage.

But where does the meat go?

He's strong. I've seen him lift a hundred pounds over his head without even knowing it.

The muscles became so strained with overuse, that eventually the hand locked into a deformed position, and he was left with nothing but a claw. He traveled the world seeking a cure - acupuncturists, herbalists, swamis. Nothing helped. Towards the end, his hands became so frozen the was unable to manipulate utensils,…

Astroturf? You know who's responsible for that, don't you? The Jews!

Thank you. You're a good man. Bless you.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

This is like discovering plutonium by accident!

I burned for her, much like the burning during urination that I would experience soon afterwards.

I'm a seat filler.

I got gonorrhea from a tractor.

There's nothing more sophisticated than diddling the maid and then chewing some gum.