How come Mom is crazy and I'm not? Well, it's possible my mom could stand up in front of this many people and talk about all the crap in her life and those people could have sat around and laughed with her, it would've meant nothing and she could have moved on cool. It's also possible she could have taken out the whole front row with a large-caliber weapon.

Normal people terrify me, because they haven't had enough problems in their life to know how to handle problems when they come up. Something little happens and they snap. But being from a dysfunctional family means nothing rattles me. Hey once you've driven a drunken father to moms' parole hearing, what else is there?

My father was on the Alcoholics Anonymous wishlist. My mother was on... parole. And lithium.

I have a dream. With that one sentence, Martin Luther King touched and empowered an entire nation. You know what else he did? He made everybody else without dreams feel real bad.

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"!

Why should I learn English? I'm never going to England. Shah, pffff, ur, doy.

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?