The worst crime I could think of would be to pull people off by faking it, pretending as if I'm having 100% fun.

I'd like to live off the band, but if not, I'll just retire to Mexico or Yugoslavia with a few hundred dollars, grow potatoes, and learn the history of rock through back issues of Creem magazine.

I was accepted by cool people because the cheerleaders thought I was cute. The jocks knew the jock-girls thought I was cute. I just chose not to hang around with them.

Humans are stupid. I'm ashamed to be human.

I'd rather hang out with the losers that would sit and smoke a cigarette than the ones who wanted to throw a baseball.

We're so trendy we can't even escape ourselves.

I use bits and pieces of others personalities to form my own.