Psst. Don’t refer to them as voices in your head. Do as the professionals and call them your ‘team of writers’.

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The great songs ask the eternal questions: Where have all the flowers gone? How can you mend a broken heart? Who let the dogs out?


[During lull in conversation at party]
ME: Do you think you’re closer to your own birth or your own death? Let’s go around the room.


Become a parent, so you, too, can be accused of putting too much yolk in an egg.


My wife told me to strive for perfection, so I divorced her and started dating a swimsuit model.


PRIEST: are you a catholic?
ME: I have four, but I wouldn’t say I’m addicted


You’re so empty inside….nnn….stupid fridge.


*bumps into an acquaintance in a world where there’s no such thing as weather* Uhhhhhhhhhhh


Rhythmic banging against the wall, his hands grasping the sheets. Unable to get what he needs, he gets out of bed to turn off the Roomba.


One man. One dream. One crazy summer. Three wizards. Fourteen cobras. Ten thousand condoms. I dunno, I’m just listing things.


Judge: Show us on this doll where the man hurt you.
Me: He didn’t. But watch this.
[I make the doll do a backflip]
Judge: Holy shit lol