What depresses me is the inevitable way the second rate forges ahead and the deserving is left behind.
I just want silence. . . Jesus, it doesn't mean I don't like you. It just means right now, I like silence more.
You worry too much. Eat some bacon. . . what? No, I got no idea if it'll make you feel better, I just made too much bacon.
If it's not bourbon or sweatpants, it's going in the garbage. . . . No, don't get creative. Now is not a creative time. Now is a bourbon and sweatpants time.
When it's asshole-tightening time, that's when you see what people are made of. Or at least what their asshole is made of.
Oh spare me, being stuck in your bedroom is not like prison. You don't have to worry about being gang-raped in your bedroom.
On My First Driving Lesson “First things first: A car has five gears. What is that smell?…Okay, first thing before that first thing: Farting in a car that’s not moving makes you an asshole.
I believe in the healing restorative power of art and communication. And so that's probably my rule. But that doesn't apply to bedtimes. And stuff like that.
Writing is?waiting for the word that may not be there until next Tuesday.
Standing by and doing nothing while a sin is committed is as bad as committing the sin itself
I'm also a video game addict, so I'm always looking to support my addiction.