My uncle Jimmy fell off the 700 level at the old Veterans Stadium trying to reach a foul ball. He was legally dead for four minutes. You know he got that ball, though.
I've got a freezer full of shu mai from Trader Joe's. And for dessert, a huge-ass box of Chocodiles. I hid them in the fridge for when the cholos come back, and they will be back. I gave the biggest one a key.
My dream... is to destroy George Clooney. That arrogant, overrated, memo-writing bastard! He's not even an actor! He just does the same cheesy move every time. Looks down, then looks back up squinting underneath his eyebrows. And everybody's buying it!
Bullock banished me to the "lame dad" room. Do you know where that is? It's the old haunted bathroom that nobody uses anymore, because GHOSTS ARE COMING OUT OF THE GODDAMN TOILET AND GOING UP BUTTS!
Then Chaz showed me how I could feel that way every day, taking what I want when I want. Plus, I'm a sociopath, so, you know, all this fits me like a slipper.
Good morning! Rockin Ronnie comin at ya 2 days after Father’s Day! That’s 363 days, or 8,712 hours, or 522,720 minutes until the next Father’s Day and 22 seconds until I take my pills that aren’t helping my crippling OCD. OCD, OCD, OCD.