Let Me Tell You About

I Live In California, The Worst Place In The World For Fat People. There Are Three Of Us. They Have Us On Eight-hour Shifts, So It Works Out.

I Have A Cousin Ernie Who Buys Stuff. He's Got A Big Snowblower That's Actually The Biggest Snowblower You Can Buy, With A Remote Control, So He Doesn't Even Have To Go Outside. He's Got The Microwave And A Satellite Dish, It's All In One. He Cooks And Watches At The Same Time.

If I Were The Last Person On Earth, Some Moron Would Turn Left In Front Of Me.

I Have Added A Lot. There's Some Vegas Stuff And Hotel Stuff And A Whole Chunk On Health.

I Think What People Were Trying With Me Was To Figure Out Who I Was. They Thought I Was Funny, But They Were Like, "how Can We Use This Guy So He Can Regularly Do This?" Does That Make Any Sense? I Think People Were Trying To Figure Out If My Fat Peg Would Fit In Their Square Hole.