Simple stories are the best ones. The kind you read and say, "Shit, I like that." Those are the good ones. Those are the ones that make you smile.

Love: Not enough.

Hate: Too much.

According to Molotov, the Soviets were dropping food over Finland. They were really dropping bombs. So the Finns made cocktails and named them after him.

Love: Cocktails.

Hate: Molotov cocktails.

I have a bowling alley above me. You'd think it would be fun. They roll a strike, reset the pins, roll another, then have loud sex until 4:00AM. Banging on the ceiling doesn't help.

Love: Gutterballs.

Hate: Ceilings. Especially when the sex sounds through.

Carmex makes my lips feel good. But it is really a conspiracy. A big, balmy conspiracy. They just want to sell more Carmex. That's right—the crafty shits.

Love: Balm. Especially for lips.

Hate: Crafty shit.

Messalina couldn't stab herself. A soldier arrived just in time to help. And when Claudius found out his wife was dead, he asked for more wine. Isn't that a bitch?

Love: The Julio-Claudians.

Hate: The Tetrarchy. Boring, boring Tetrarchy.