Hatred is the air I breathe. It permeates every cell in my body.

I'm developing a mild rash at the idea of "plugging" anything, because it's not how I roll.

I can't tell you how many times people - through the anonymity and safety of the Internet, of course - have told me 'You beat women' as if it was an ongoing, daily thing. The only person ever brave enough to say it to my face quickly surrendered his courage when I said, 'Would you like to step outside and see if I can beat men, too?'

The criticism that has most consistently bothered me is the allegation that I'm a schlockmeister whose only objective is to shock people.

Anyone who's ever had the misfortune of seeing me interact with house pets knows I have a wickedly strong paternal instinct bordering on the maternal.

When I see two women kissing, my only physical reaction is a strong desire to vomit in both of their mouths.

My crazy parents and those crazy Catholic nuns didn't do a good job of forcing me to keep the Ten Commandments, but they kept me forever fixated on the very idea of a taboo.