My dad's all I've ever had. When I was 3 and 4, my mom used to take me to bars. I understand why now - babysitters cost beer, beer and-a-half an hour.

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.

No problem is so big and difficult that it can't be blamed on somebody else.

Humans are born, small, weak and helpless. That's why we have family. And the elders of the family are the honoured guardians of our country's history. Unfortunately, in America, we, you know, lock those elders away out of view in nursing homes and go about our little lives. It's a great national shame and an irredeemable tragedy. Oh well.

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.

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.

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