I've got huge tubs full of X-Files memorobilia that I can sell on eBay.

It seems unlikely that we're alone in the universe. But I'm pretty sure nobody's hiding any contact.

I had to work in one of the most beautiful ski resorts in the world for almost three weeks. Pity me.

Feelings come and go, unless you don't feel them. Then they stay, and hurt, and grow pear-shaped and weird.

I drive an electric car.

Maybe with "Californication" the character was partly based on Rick Moody. I read him and Jay McInerney, the templates for this bad boy novelist.

I understand the self-loathing and the resentment, and the discipline that it takes to sit down in front of a typewriter or computer every single day, whether it's going well or not going well.