When I was seven, I watched One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest with my mom. When Jack Nicholson was strapped to the table getting electroshock treatment, my mom burst into tears. She said it reminded her of her life, and I was stunned, because I didn't know my mom had been nominated for an Oscar.

My random acts of violence weren't random. They were premeditated.

I find that Americans are all in the middle somewhere, except for the extreme nuts, and extreme nuts on both sides are the loudest. And that's why it feels like we are polarized.

All of Dad's relationships ended exactly the same: subpoena, beep of a moving van backing up the driveway, pile of his clothes burning on the front lawn.

Of course, here's the weird part. After I fought my dad, all of a sudden we're buddies now. Like he's my friend now, we start hanging out. But we're still the same people. So we'd go out on Sunday, you know, and just be hanging out, then he'd, like, pick a guy, and we'd just go beat the crap out of that guy as a team. Memories, huh?

Terrorists, oh I'm sorry, Fox News tells us it's all illegal immagration's fault but it's not their fault, it's ours.

Socrates said, the unexamined life is not worth living. My dad said, Booty - mmm mmm.