Love needs room to grow. Like a rose. Or a tumor.

I've won Satan's lottery.

I was seven before I realized that you could eat breakfast with your pants on.

...she is too beautiful, I think, to not be inherently evil.

Words, words, words, a million million words circle in my head like hawks, waiting to dive onto the page to rend and tear the only two words I want to write. Why me?

Which is why you chose to wear that delightful ensemble from the skank-wear collection at Hoes-n-Thangs?" -Tommy

Why write a song when no one can play the notes or understand the lyrics?