A Quote by Tig Notaro

Stephanie and I got married publicly on the beach, in front of friends and family, and the local police shut down the highway for us to cross the street back to my cousin's house. Cars backed up for miles, and everybody in town cheered.
We get picked up in these Rolls Royces and get three miles down the highway and five cop cars pull us over.
My dad loved to 'arrange things' to take us kids to that scared the crap out of us on Halloween. He'd take us to the old 'Hermit's House' at the edge of town. He'd park the car 100 yards down the street and say, 'Go back there and get something off the front porch!'
I grew up thirty miles down the highway in San Marcos, and I've still got family there, so I guess I'm pretty well rooted.
People move into a house a block down the road. You know who`s going in. You can see and you report them to the local police. Everybody`s their own cop in a way. You got to do it.
Crime in the city streets is more than a political issue. It's a too rampant fact.... In Indianapolis they have come up with a most sensible, affordable approach to the problem. Policemen are assigned their police patrol cars for personal use after hours. They are encouraged to use the police car while taking the family shopping, to the movies, and everywhere one takes one's family. As a result, says the Police Chief's assistant, we may have as many as 400 cars on the street instead of 100 or so per shift. [And] the presence of the police car obviously indicates the proximity of policemen.
You owe me!" -Stephanie "Why do I owe you?" -Joe "I caught your no good cousin." -Stephanie "Yeah and in the process you burned down a funeral home, and damaged thousands of dollars of government property." -Joe "Well if you are going to be picky about it...." -Stephanie
I was walking down First Avenue, heading to CVS. And two police cars pulled over and stopped, and rolled down the window and one of them asked, 'Are you Isaac Wright?' When I said yes, they immediately got out and asked me to take pictures with them in front of the police car.
On Tuesday 26 July 2011, I was arrested in front of the White House along with a dozen other pro-immigrant advocates and clergy. We sat down on the sidewalk in front of the White House with a banner that read 'One Million Deported Under President Obama' and refused to move when the police ordered us to.
I'd like a stocking made for a giant, And a meeting house full of toys, Then I'd go out in a happy hunt For the poor little girls and boys; Up the street and down the street, And across and over the town, I'd search and find them everyone, Before the sun went down.
My parents had bought a video camera for us to film Christmases and other family events. I took it down to the beach, set up a tripod, and I would grab two other friends, and we'd take turns filming and surfing. Then, at the end of the day, I'd go home and I'd make a video for everybody to watch.
A truck driver was driving along on the freeway. A sign comes up that reads, Low Bridge Ahead. Before he knows it, the bridge is right ahead of him and he gets stuck under the bridge. Cars are backed up for miles. Finally a police car comes up. The cop gets out of his car and walks to the truck driver, puts his hands on his hips and says, Got stuck, huh? The truck driver says, No, I was delivering this bridge and ran out of gas.
When I go back to family reunions everybody goes, 'Hey cousin! Hey Auntie!' And I'm like, 'Okay I don't know you, I have no idea who you are.' I am auntie and cousin for so many and even the ones in prison call me collect. And I'll be like, 'Which of my family members are giving you this phone number?'
Halfway down a by-street of one of our New England towns stands a rusty wooden house, with seven acutely peaked gables, facing towards various points of the compass, and a huge, clustered chimney in the midst. The street is Pyncheon Street; the house is the old Pyncheon House; and an elm-tree, of wide circumference, rooted before the door, is familiar to every town-born child by the title of the Pyncheon Elm.
My company was based in Palm Beach, Florida, but when 'Bar Rescue' took off, I knew I had to move west. It was a choice between L.A. and Vegas. I have a lot of friends in Vegas, and it became my choice. I'm so glad because I love it here. There's a real sense of community. It's a big town that feels like a small town. Everybody knows everybody.
The very first time I got to drive by myself, I took a bunch of my friends to school and was caught by a motorcycle cop going 90 miles an hour on a back street.
I went on a date once with a police officer, unbeknownst to me. I thought he was a regular guy. And when I found out that he was a police officer... I wasn't so into it. I got paranoid that I would illegally cross the street and get a ticket for jay walking.
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