I once heard two ladies going on and on about the pains of childbirth and how men don't seem to know what real pain is. I asked if either of them ever got themselves caught in a zipper.
You know what I hate? Indian givers... no, I take that back.
Some mornings it just doesn't seem worth it to gnaw through the leather straps.
I go from stool to stool in singles bars hoping to get lucky but there's never any gum under any of them.
I was the kid next door's imaginary friend.
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I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."