It is just that I don't want a wife and I don't want kids.

For me, returning to Los Angeles annihilates the memories of where I have just been with an astonishing speed.

We Americans are hard on almost everything. We are hard on our vehicles, our marriages and our heroes. Mostly, however, we are hard on ourselves.

There're some places that are more difficult or dangerous to navigate and I wouldn't look forward to going back. Like I'd much rather go back to Afghanistan - which fascinates me - quicker than I'd go back to spend a week walking around Nairobi, Kenya, which is a great and easy way to get yourself killed.

I want a soul mate who can sit me down, shut me up, tell me ten things I don't already know, and make me laugh. I don't care what you look like, just turn me on.

One of the most insane environments I have ever spent time in is a gun range. There we are, all in a line, armed to the teeth, firing away.

The kid who throws his spaghetti from the high chair onto his father's face, he's pushing back. He's sticking it to the man as he sees it. I like that. So that is punk.