If it's not bourbon or sweatpants, it's going in the garbage.... No, don't get creative. Now is not a creative time. Now is a bourbon and sweatpants time.

I kind of came to the conclusion after I did finally get married that love and relationships are just a series of horrific losses with hopefully one win.

On My Last-Place Finish in the 50-Yard Dash During Little League Tryouts “It kinda looked like you were being attacked by a bunch of bees or something. Then when I saw the fat kid with the watch who was timing you start laughing…. Well, I’ll just say it’s never a good sign when a fat kid laughs at you.

If it's not bourbon or sweatpants, it's going in the garbage.... No, don't get creative. Now is not a creative time. Now is a bourbon and sweatpants time.

[The] majority of the girls working there had major emotional problems. And not cries-too-much emotional problems; more like stabs-her-boyfriend-with-a-steak-knife-then-falls-into-a-corner-and-starts-whispering-to-herself emotional problems.

The worst thing you can be is a liar. . . . Okay, fine, yes, the worst thing you can be is a Nazi, but then number two is liar. Nazi one, liar two.

When it's asshole-tightening time, that's when you see what people are made of. Or at least what their asshole is made of.