You want what you can't have. And if someone's being shitty to you, just move on. If someone's being shitty to you, no matter how great they are, that's shitty, and you don't want be with someone who treats you shitty.

One of the big things I miss about New York is not my friends so much; it's Shake Shack, the burger place. I miss Shake Shack.

Zerts' are what I call desserts. 'Trée-trées' are entrées. I call sandwiches 'sammies,' 'sandoozles,' or 'Adam Sandlers.' Air conditioners are 'cool blasterz' with a 'z' - I don't know where that came from. I call cakes 'big ol' cookies.' I call noodles 'long-ass rice.' Fried chicken is 'fry-fry chicky-chick.' Chicken parm is 'chicky-chicky-parm-parm.' Chicken cacciatore? 'Chicky-cacc.' I call eggs 'pre-birds,' or 'future birds.' Root beer is 'super water.' Tortillas are 'bean blankets.' And I call forks 'food rakes.'

Most single people I know, myself included, have a difficult time even meeting up with the people they like, be it busy schedules, texting games, or whatever.

I never had the desire to be a professional Twitterer. Every now and then something dumb pops into my head and I'll tweet it. I don't feel any obligation to respond to everyone. Not that I don't appreciate people sending me messages on there, but there are too many. Responding to everyone would take away time for all the stuff I'm actually in the business for.

I strapped an MP3 player to one of those floor-cleaning robots. Call him DJ Roomba - little guy cruises around and plays music. What's hot, DJ Roomba!

Oh, am I wearing an ascot? I didn't notice.