If I had a clone, he’d better be my equal, and not my better. Can you imagine how I’d feel being jealous of myself? - Jarod Kintz

Love walked in the door like a dusty cowboy, and I looked that cowboy dead in his eyes and said, “I thought I shot you.” And his eyes never blinked, wavered, or watered as he said, “You did. You shot me in the leg. But you can’t kill love that easily. And today you’re going to learn how deadly Love can be.” That was over four years ago, and I’m still alive. So that was his plan all along, to serve me up a super slow death. Sort of like torture, only imperceptible and more pleasant.

When I turn thirty, in thirty days or so, I might be feeling old, so I’ll probably call my grandma up, because as old as I’ll feel, she’ll be feeling older. Twelve years older.

A lawyer, a politician, and a prostitute walk into a bar, and the bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” And I’d have to agree. Serves them right for being so sleazy.