Last week I helped my friend stay put. It's a lot easier than helping someone move. I just went over to his house and made sure that he did not start to load his shit into a truck.

I bought a doughnut and they gave me a receipt for the doughtnut...I don't need a receipt for the doughnut - I give you money and you give me the doughnut, end of transaction. We don't need to bring ink and paper into this. I can't imagine a scenario that I would have to prove that I bought a doughnut. To some skeptical friend, Don't even act like I didn't buy a doughnut, I've got the documentation right here... It's in my file at home. ...Under "D"

I'm against picketing, but I don't know how to show it.

I have an underwater camera just in case I crash my car into a river, and at the last minute I see a photo opportunity of a fish that I have never seen.

I think Bigfoot is blurry, that's the problem. It's not the photographer's fault. Bigfoot is blurry. And that's extra scary to me, because there's a large, out-of-focus monster roaming the countryside. Run. He's fuzzy. Get outta here.

I have a cheese-shredder at home, which is its positive name. They don't call it by its negative name, which is sponge-ruiner. Because I wanted to clean it, and now I have little bits of sponge that would melt easily over tortilla chips...

I played golf... I did not get a hole in one, but I did hit a guy. That's way more satisfying... You're supposed to yell 'fore' but I kept thinking there ain't no way that's gonna hit him.

My lucky number is four billion. That doesn't come in real handy when you're gambling. "Come on, four billion! Fuck. Seven. Not even close. I need more dice."

I don't own a cell phone or a pager. I just hang around everyone I know, all the time. If someone needs to get ahold of me they just say, "Mitch," and I say, "what" and turn my head slightly...

I hope the next time I move I get a real easy phone number. Something like, 222-2222. I would say sweet. People would say, "Mitch, how do I get ahold of you?" I would say, "Press 2 for a while, and when I answer, you will know that you have pressed 2 enough"

I opened up a container of yogurt, and under the lid it said Please Try Again because they were having a contest I was unaware of. But I thought I might have opened the yogurt wrong... or maybe Yoplait was trying to inspire me, 'c'mon, Mitchell, don't give up. Please try again. A message of inspiration from your friends at Yoplait. Fruit on the bottom, hope on top.

An escalator can never break. It can only become stairs. You would never see an "Escalator Temporarily Out Of Order" sign, just "Escalator Temporarily Stairs. Sorry for the convenience."

My friend said to me, "You know what I like? Mashed potatoes." I was like, "Dude, you have to give me time to guess. If you're going to quiz me you have to insert a pause."

Alcoholism is a disease, but it's the only one you can get yelled at for having. Goddammit Otto, you are an alcoholic. Goddammit Otto, you have Lupus... one of those two doesn't sound right.

I was at this casino minding my own business, and this guy came up to me and said, "You're gonna have to move, you're blocking a fire exit." As though if there was a fire, I wasn't gonna run. If you're flammable and have legs, you are never blocking a fire exit.

I like rice. Rice is great if you're hungry and want 2000 of something.

I like refried beans. I wanna try fried beans, because maybe they're just as good and we're just wasting time.

I don't have a girlfriend. But I do know a woman who'd be mad at me for saying that.

I used to do drugs. I still do drugs. But I used to, too.

The depressing thing about tennis is that no matter how good I get, I'll never be as good as a wall.

I think Pringles' initial intention was to make tennis balls. But on the day that the rubber was supposed to show up, a big truckload of potatoes arrived. But Pringles is a laid-back company. They said "Fuck it. Cut em up."

So, I sit at the hotel at night and I think of something that's funny. Or, If the pen is too far away, I have to convince myself that what I thought of wasn't funny.

I had a bag of Fritos, they were Texas grilled Fritos. These Fritos had grill marks on them. Hell yeah, reminds me of summer time, when we used to fire up the barbeque and throw down some Fritos. I can still see my dad with the apron on, better flip that Frito, dad, you know how I like mine.

I like cinnamon rolls, but I don't always have time to make a pan. That's why I wish they would sell cinnamon roll incense. Perhaps I'd rather light a stick and have my roommate wake up with false hopes.

I like vending machines, because snacks are better when they fall. If I buy a candy bar at the store oftentimes I will drop it, so that it achieves its maximum flavor potential.

I think foosball is a combination of soccer and shish kabobs.
I think pickles are cucumbers that sold out. They sold their soul to the devil, and the devil is dill...

I saw a six pack of soda-pop for $1.20. That price fucks with your head, man. Because then I thought that I would start selling soda-pop. Suddenly I got things of pop with me. "What's going on, Mitch." "Not much, looking to buy some pop? Fifty cents a can. It's not refrigerated because this is a half assed commitment."

If carrots got you drunk, rabbits would be fucked up.

That would be cool if you could eat a good food with a bad food and the good food would cover for the bad food when it got to your stomach. Like you could eat a carrot with an onion ring and they would travel down to your stomach, then they would get there, and the carrot would say, "Its cool, he's with me."

You know they call corn on the cob, corn on the cob, but that's how it comes out of the ground, man. They should call that corn, they should call every other version corn off the cob. It's not like if you cut off my arm you would call it Mitch. Then reattach it and call me Mitch-all-together...

I like swiss cheese. It's the only cheese you can draw with a pencil and identify.