You sit in your driveway with all your sh*t. ‘Does anybody want to buy my crap? It’s been kind of a rough year.’ And it’s not even your good crap, either. It’s the stuff you don’t want. It’s like, ‘I broke this in ’74, but I thought you might be …

Everything we do, ladies, is for you, to try to get your attention: the cars, the money, the clothes, the brushing the teeth.

You know when I think it’s hardest to be a girl? I think it’s summertime — hot weather. For a woman, it’s hard to maintain the high vertical clearance on the poofy do in hot weather, especially if you have one of those bitchin’ bang-babe-erecto-do things, where they look like …

I tried to go Christmas shopping last year, but I didn’t have no money. I just went window-shopping with a brick.

You guys have it so easy. You don’t shave: it’s sexy, it’s a turn-on. We don’t shave: it’s birth control.

Yo’ Mama is so fat, that when she sits around the house, she really sits around the house.

This is how you know you’re really getting old. If go to a nightclub and you start complaining about everything in the club: ‘G**damn, the music is loud as hell in here. Why is the music so loud? Who’s deejaying — Funkmaster Deaf?’

I could never imagine dating someone that much younger. The gap in life experience is too great. ‘Cause they’re asking you questions like, ‘Who do you like better: Bon Jovi or Whitesnake?’ And at 33, I need to know, ‘Do you own or you rent?’

I was reading in the celebrity obituary column. It said the Guinness Book of World Records’ oldest living person had died. Carrie White died at the age of 118 years old. Last line of the obituary said, and I quote, ‘Cause of death has not yet been determined.’ Let me …

I used to live out here myself. One thing I couldn’t get used to: everybody with the blonde-blonde hair, dark tan, white teeth. Everybody looks like negatives.