I'm not a thrill seeker. I'm not looking to get kidnapped. I'm not looking to get a shot at. I've been shot at. I didn't like it.

Sometimes it seems the harder you try to hold onto something or someone the more it wants to get away. You feel like some kind of criminal for having felt, for having wanted. For having wanted to be wanted. It confuses you because you think that your feelings were wrong and it makes you feel so small because it’s so hard to keep it inside when you let it out and it doesn’t come back. You’re left so alone that you can’t explain.

Now you see how you are, the wisdom mixed in with all the scars.

There is no heaven for me and no hell. And certainly not any Karma.

The opportunity to write for the 'L.A. Weekly' has been one of the better breaks that has come my way in a long time.

Anyone who wants to help me doesn't. Anyone who wants to kill me might. Anyone who wants to love me better not.

When I see the hatred exacted at Mr. Obama - you know, he lowered your taxes, killed your number one bad guy and got your guys out of Iraq - I don't understand why he seems to inflame people so much. You know, unless, unless there's a race problem.