I just got a new iPod. It's got 80 gigabytes. Because I like to jog for three weeks at a time and I do not want to hear the same song twice.

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 trying to feel terrified and alone. And regret every decision I've ever made, drenched in a cold sweat. It's called going to sleep. Maybe you've heard of it.

I deserve someone who likes me for who I am pretending to be.

I never smoke grass and drive my car because, for one thing, no matter how many letters I write to the road commissions, they still refuse to start designing highways with second-chance exits.

My friend and I were up to all sorts of shenanigans at school. But one time it ended up disrupting the whole class and we got in trouble. His parents told him he wasn't allowed to hang out with me any more. I had a friendship break-up in third grade. It was brutal.

I was in a real conservative area just outside of Chicago recently. And this guy's like, 'Hey, Arj, you're from San Francisco. Are you in favor of gay marriage?' I was like, 'Well, I'd like to get to know you a little bit better first. I don't know what ever happened to buying a guy a smoothie and seeing what happens. That's how we do it back home.