How is it possible to find meaning in a finite world, given my waist and shirt size?

Some guy hit my fender, and I told him, 'Be fruitful and multiply,' but not in those words.

I don't think my parents liked me. They put a live teddy bear in my crib.

I'm such a good lover because I practice a lot on my own.

I'm astounded by people who want to 'know' the universe when it's hard enough to find your way around Chinatown.

My education was dismal. I went to a series of schools for mentally disturbed teachers.

I have bad reflexes. I was once run over by a car being pushed by two guys.

I was a nervous child, I was a bedwetter. I used to sleep with an electric blanket and I was constantly electrocuting myself.

When I was kidnapped, my parents snapped into action. They rented out my room.