Instead of dumping all my money on an independent film that nobody would watch and most people would make fun of behind my back, I decided, 'I'm just going to buy a house.'

I have voices in my head, but they're all speaking Spanish, and I have NO idea what they're saying.

I worked in Toronto for two days. And by work I mean sit in a trailer for 15 hours, say two lines, and leave.

If you had to eat another human to survive, do you think they'd taste like their ethnic background?

Am I the only person who hopes that David Beckham has sex with Brad Pitt? I don't know who's in charge of casting in Hollywood, but make it happen before one of them is out of their prime. Can you imagine those two men together making love? If there's a man in here that's junk doesn't wiggle just a little bit at the thought of those two men together - this has nothing to do with your homophobic sexual preference. At that level it's art, you monkey. You should be honored that you share the same restroom with those Greek gods.

Every year on my birthday I get a small dash on my inner thigh where my balls currently hang. You can't tell me that's not going to be a beautiful work of art when it's finished. My grandkids are playing with my balls, they can't figure it out. They're like, 'What are these things?' I'm like, 'It's your future, read the chart.' They don't stop growing; they're like earlobes. That joke was inspired by a door that wasn't locked when I was 11.

If you snort enough blow, any lane is a passing lane.