Boom, crush. Night, losers. Winning, duh.

I've spent, I think, close to the last decade effortlessly and magically converting your tin cans into pure gold.

What they're not ready for is guys like you and I and Nails and all the other gnarly gnarlingtons in my life, that we are high priests, Vatican assassin warlocks. Boom. Print that, people. See where that goes.

I have one speed, I have one gear: Go!

I just think the whole disease model of addiction is crap. It's rooted in fiction and junk science.

The best way to not get your heart broken, is pretending you don't have one.

Women are not to be hit. They're to be hugged and caressed.