My Humor Was Kind Of From My

I Wouldn't Hurt A Flea. I'd Finger A Spider Though.

My Humor Was Kind Of From My Dad And All The Stuff That We Went Through, Which Was A Lot Of Death. My Humor Was An Escape.

I Have A Feeling I'm Going To Wake Up One Day And Say 'i Can't Do Dirty Stuff Anymore, I Want To Go All Clean.' I'll Do Clean Stuff Too, I Like To Entertain People. Then They Egged Me On; We Shot It At The Laugh Factory.

I'm Completely Changing My Diet. My Nutritionist Recommends I Must Now Stop Eating Food I Have Already Eliminated.

The Other Day My Twelve-year-old Says To Me, I Don't Feel Like I'm With You Right Now. You're In The Car With Me, You're Checking Your E-mail, You're Not Listening To Me, I Don't Feel Like I'm With You. And I Say, You Know What? That Was Your Mother's Gripe, Too. And She Was Right. And You're Also Correct. When You Cop To Something, You Get To The Next Level. In This Case, The Next Level Is: I Just Learned Something From My Twelve-year-old.