He looked like the type of dad that volunteers to hand out the trophies to the losers in Little League. [pauses, angrily] And when did that start?! Y… - Christopher Titus

And me having kids, with my family history? My mom: mentally ill, shot and killed her last husband. My father: six ex-wives, four heart attacks. Both of my parents think alcohol is a food group.

A lot of people tell me this, too: "Don't worry about it. It's God's will. Y'know, you weren't meant to be together. God's will." God's will? Really, God got involved in this? Really? Twenty years with somebody, twenty years of my life pretty much gone? All the money I made, the career I chose, pretty much torn to pieces? Two little kids' lives shattered? Really, God? Is that how you work? This brutal, disemboweling nightmare…is you? 'Cause if that's the case, then THERE IS NO GOD! (silence): And God said unto me: "Christopher...I did this so you could meet a 29-year-old, 5'11" Diesel jeans model who has two college degrees and already paid for her own boob job." [a light shines on him and he drops to his knees, imitating a heavenly chorus] How shall I serve thee, Lord?

Then you women created a word: "Manscape." And we shaved ourselves bald like nine year-old boys. 'Cause we wanted to sleep with you.