I could've enjoyed a cigarette if I smoked back before everyone knew it was bad - say, like, 1923. Everybody smoked back then. There was no medical information against it; they had no idea - it was a paradise. It was a smoker's paradise: 'They're taking my lung out next week. I don't know why. Doctor thinks maybe I'm brushing my teeth too often, but I can't help it because, for some reason, my breath smells like I licked a monkey's ass.

My general rule of thumb is, once something's a ride at Disneyland, I assume that it is no longer a threat in real life. Which is why I don't expect to get attacked by a giant tea cup anytime soon.

I hate all generalisations.

I believe that if you go on a date and get to second base and then you go home alone and rub one out, that's like runs batted in.

I was a typical kid. I dug holes in the yard, threw rocks, had plum battles with the neighbours and used trash can lids as shields. I was always outside getting dirty.

It's gotten to the point where I think my friends would rather hang out with their own kids than hang out with me. And I'm like, "Alright, but where's the loyalty, man. I've known you for twenty-five years. How long have you known your baby, like, a month?"

I'm not even worried about settling down. I think it's way too early. I'm 25 and I'm in show business. I mean, if things go well, my wife hasn't even been born yet.