Everybody has hope for the perfect love. Normal people are raised to believe that there's someone out there who's your soulmate, your best friend, your lover. My dad always told me that when you find that person, "You gotta nail her"!

Love. It's God's greatest gift. He fills our world with it and makes sure we grow up with caring, supportive parents. I'm just kidding. Pain is God's greatest gift. Pain is God's way of saying, "Hurts, don't it ? Wel, go ahead. Say, me dammit again."

Many massacres have happened when people yell "surprise"! Pearl Harbor. The Tet Offensive. My uncle's 50th birthday party. I was there, man! How many more people gotta die?

Nobody's really happy. And as soon as society realises that you can't trust anyone and that hardship is a natural part of existence, the sooner the therapists will realise that they are worthless! Sorry. They have worth deficit disorder!

The closer you get to death, the more alive you feel. Dylan Thomas wrote, Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. My dad always taught me to live like that. Dad wrote a poem too. It goes, Dune buggies. Woohoo!

And one more thing I want to be clear about - I know who I am. I am just a very thin layer of charming with some funny sprinkles wrapped around a huge creamy center of raging arrogant a-hole. I got it.

Humans are born, weak and helpless. We're cursed with natural predators called parents. That's why the grandma was created. To protect us. Oh sure, she's old and frail. But she can kick your dad's ass.