I believe "human sexuality" is one of the most ridiculous aspects of being a human, and here I was, facing publications whose prevailing editorial slant sought to portray our basic rutting instincts as something "ennobling" and "empowering," to depict women who were fundamentally whores and predominantly unstable as "sex workers" and "goddesses."

Hatespeak is usually more honest than lovespeak, and it's always better than doublespeak.

When I write, I strain with every wizened fibre of my weathered frame to analyze every possible angle of any given subject.

A primary flaw in my psychology is that I'll give people a hundred yards' worth of rope with which to hang themselves, but once they reach that hundred-yard line, I strangle them to death with it.

My hatred is a thousand times more powerful than all your good intentions.

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

As I view it, spending over two years in a cage is far worse than having your face pounded and dealing with a black eye for a week or two.