Some women were talking about how I put out. And that's just not that case. I don't put out - unless I'm asked very, very politely, and that's not putting out, that's just giving in.

No one knows who the real me is, so I can be a hundred different kinds of me.

I'd hate to be a writer forever and never perform, and I'd hate to perform and not write. I get sad if time has passed and I haven't written or made anything. I'm an artist.

I used to carry a rabbit's foot for luck. Then it was a monkey's paw. Now it's a camel's toe.

I mean if you two were to make love, that would be gay. Two men touching each other physically and emotionally...erotically caressing each other...on the hood of a car...or the back of a movie theater.

I would imagine that Bret would taste like a warm goat cheese, and Jemaine would taste like harvati with dill. Hmm...I'm hungry actually.

As you can see, I speak many languages, including the language of sex.