Advice to rock gods: drugwise, stick to Ibuprofen, decaf lattes, and pale Pilsners ... If your stomach is not a flat slab, please leave your shirt on while performing ... If your girlfriend asks you to choose between her and your music, sell your instruments immediately - especially if you're a drummer ... Finally, go easy on the supermodels, don't forget to tune, and remember: a tiny bit of dry ice and lasers goes a long way. Ditto with tattoos.

Americans will buy anything, as long as it doesn't cross the thin line between cute and demonic.

Sigmund Freud was a half baked Viennese quack. Our literature, culture, and the films of Woody Allen would be better today if Freud had never written a word.

Never ask a woman why she's angry at you. She will either get angrier at you for not knowing, or she'll tell you. Both ways, you lose.

They don't produce anything. All they do is guide you through the labyrinth of the legal system that they created - and they keep changing it just in case you start to catch on.

L.A.: where there's never weather, and walking is a crime. L.A.: where the streetlights and palm trees go on forever, where darkness never comes, like a deal that never goes down, a meeting that's never taken. The City of Angels: where every cockroach has a screenplay and even the winos wear roller skates. It's that kind of town.

Favorite color: I hate colors.