I'm alive, happier than I've ever been, and I'm doing exactly what I want.

I believe that to some degree there are situational and psychological laws of cause-and-effect, but I don't believe there's some Über-soul who doles out "justice."

Many of the racial problems in America are caused by the fact that people are innately tribal, and politicians know how to exploit that biological fact.

Most of those who spend their lives as critics secretly wish they'd be considered important enough for someone to bother criticizing them.

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

The idea that the reader is important enough to me that I'd tailor my words to either please or offend them always seems amusingly alien to me.

You truly need to witness me goo-gooing and coo-cooing and making up goofy little songs to glean a full appreciation of how nauseating I can be. This is another instance where things seemingly don't add up - how can this vile, hateful, violent, misogynist, racist, loathsome, repugnant, worthless, reprehensible subhuman be so insanely tender and kind to little doggies and kitty-cats?