It's hard to force creativity and humor.

Left all my Beatle records out in the sun, got a coke bottle stuck on the end of my tongue.

Somebody will come up to me after a show and have me sign their arm, and the next time I see them my autograph has been permanently inscribed on their arm.

There aren't that many superstars around anymore.

I dated Siamese twins, I slept with Big Foot, too. Get me on Sally Jesse, put me on Donahue.

I suppose I had my rock star fantasies while I was singing into my hairbrush in the bathroom mirror, but I never really consciously said, 'OK, this is what I'm going to do for a living and I'm going to be Weird Al.'

I think my chances of ever making it into the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame are about as good as Milli Vanilli’s.