I need a catchphrase. And a themesong. And, while we're at it, a signature sex move that doesn't end with an apology.

I like my women like I like my coffee: causing embarrassing stains on my pants.

Fridays, Twitter is like walking through a Delhi market.

HELLO MISTER! FOLLOW MY FRIEND! IS VERY NICE FRIEND! I GIVE YOU VERY GOOD PRICE!

Actually, Jefferson Starship, we built this city on corporate greed and cheap immigrant labor, but I guess that didn't fit the rhyme scheme.

Excuse me, stewardess. If my seat can be used as a flotation device, which of these other seats can be used as a fucking parachute?

Occasionally, something happens that restores my faith in humanity. Then, someone uses the expression, "You go, girl!" and it's gone again.

Rihanna's dating a boxer? Seriously, this shit writes itself.

Hey, guys, why are you rioting?

Syria: a lack of civil liberties.
Greece: harsh economic policies.
Canada: hockey.

Whoever said "there's a time and place for everything" had probably never heard of Crocs.

Dear two dudes in a Miata: You aren't fooling anyone by not making out.

"Twitter is over capacity" is the new "No soup for you!"

Hey, maybe one time we could make a sitcom where the husband is out of the wife's league and the wife says stupid shit all the time.

Bringing your problems to Twitter is like bringing sand to the beach.

Don't shoot the messenger, unless the message is: "Hey, do me a favor; shoot this messenger."

It takes an East Village to raise a hipster.

Eating a pear at my desk. LIKE A BOSC.

Pear jokes work on twitter, right guys?

Guys?

My boss totally appreciates my copious usage of finger quotes in meetings.

You couldn't see it, but I put "appreciates" in finger quotes.

As a man, I honor Christopher Columbus every day of the year by refusing to ask for directions.

If you don't want me to finish your sentences, finish them faster.

Nothing screams "domestication" like opening the pantry and realizing that you own five different varieties of vinegar.