I want to get away from it all. Move to the sticks. Montana. Hundreds of miles from civilization. Get a cabin in the snow. Curl up with some cute girl. Say stuff to her like, Scream all you want, sugar. Ain't nobody gonna hear you!

On Sundays, I lay low, sulk a lot, and try to get my head together for next week.

There are a couple hard things. One, getting a funny idea that people can relate to; a funny idea or a funny script; there's a million pitches.

I wish I had that carefree lifestyle. But I guess I'm more private, and more inside.

Staying in a hotel this time. They put me up in a little bit of a shithole. Yeah. Just this side of rinky dink. The first 7 floors are a homeless shelter, but I'm on 8.

Gossip is a plague that consumes weak, gullible people and blinds them from the truth of reality; it can devour entire city's. I prefer keeping my eyes wide open.

MySpace is a great way to keep in touch with friends who you don't care enough about to actually have a conversation with, why bother calling to say "how are you," when you can just surf their page and post an mpeg of a guy farting on his cat.