I had a real job at fourteen years old. At seventeen, I was on my own. At twenty, I cut the liver out of a drifter and gave it to my father! 'Cause my dad's a drinker and I love my dad. And for eighty bucks, you can do anything in Mexico!

I love being from a screwed up family. We have everything in my family: prescription drug abuse, mental illness, one of my uncles is a Mormon.

The yearbook voted me most likely to be scraped off an onramp by a puking fireman.

To be successful in life, there are many hurdles you have to get over. For me, the biggest hurdle to success has always been failure. But, growing up, my Dad was always positive... that I'd never amount to anything.

Here's the thing: If you're so far left you actually believe that somebody owes you a job, citizenship and a heart transplant, you're mentally ill. If you're so far right that you actually believe that somebody who doesn't have a job and is not a citizen deserves to have their heart cut out and sold on eBay, and you get to keep 80 percent of the profit - you're mentally ill.

I don't believe in right or left; I don't believe in Santa or Satan. I believe in things I can touch - like vodka and Oreos.

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.