I love this time of year. The dickheads start popping up.

Not what will happen - what will you do. Your past is not yet lost. Your future is not yet fixed.

Enjoy myself? There's a worm in my brain, I'm surrounded by idiots, and all I've got to drink is wine that tastes like vinegar.

I don't mean to judge a book by its cover, but that man is all cover and no pages.

I wanna ride you until you see stars.