Quotes & Jokes by Paula Poundstone
My mom is one of those really angry moms who gets mad at absolutely everything. Once when I was a little kid, I accidentally knocked a Flintstones glass off the kitchen table. She said, ‘Well, dammit, we can’t have nice things.’
Once I was gone for a month and I was just miserable, so I flew back from Florida for two hours just to be home and see my cats.
I got my dog three years ago because I was drunk in a pet store. We had nine cats at the time. The cats started hiding the alcohol after that.
Hell yeah, I still wear zoot suits on stage!!! I don’t care that they went out of style in the 30s and that I went out of style in the 80s. Look at it like this: You know how Gallagher smashes watermelons and Larry the Cable Guy says ‘Get Er Done’ and Bill Hicks deconstructs society and enlightens people with the truth in a deeply hilarious way? Well, I wear horrendous looking outfits on stage. That’s my thing. And, dare I say, it’s worked out pretty damn well for me. Everybody in the world used to know who I was twenty five years ago. And that’s due in large part to the dalmatian neckties and the piano key neckties I would wear. Neck wear actually made me a legend! How many people can say that or would even want to say that? Not many. Tucker Carlson, maybe…
The problem with cats is that they get the exact same look on their face whether they see a moth or an axe-murderer.
I think that's why they have so many religious freaks in the airports, they even keep the flowers behind the counter 'Go, go my children... be fruitful and annoy.'
I don’t believe for a second that weightlifting is a sport. They pick up a heavy thing and put it down again. To me, that’s indecision.
What moron said that knowledge is power? Knowledge is power only if it doesn't depress you so much that it leaves you in an immobile heap at the end of your bed.
Gay Republicans, how exactly does that work? 'We disapprove of our own lifestyle. We beat ourselves up in parking lots.'
I was diagnosed a number of years ago with obsessive-compulsive disorder - which everyone has, to some degree - and I have this really annoying trait where in conversation, I always steer it back to something that happened to me.
I'm thankful for Sarah Palin's vice presidential bid, which taught us that Alaska is not in a box off the coast of California.
The wages of sin are death, but by the time taxes are taken out, it's just sort of a tired feeling.
I don't have a bank account because I don't know my mother's maiden name and apparently that's the key to the whole thing right there. I go in every few weeks and guess.
Inside the Pop-Tarts Box there are three pouches of two. This is what happens to me: I open the first pouch, and I eat one tart, and I enjoy it very much, as naturally I would. And then I feel, “Well, I have to eat the second one or it will go stale.” Well, now I’ve eaten two, and it’s no longer just a snack, it’s a meal. I figure I may as well eat two more. And then finally I’m just like, “Well hell, I don’t just want two pop tarts hangin’ out in a box.” I eat the last two just to tidy up, really.