Even though it was January, in Los Angeles it was beautiful and sunny and the blue skies were out and it was hot everyday, so I think it was just a product of our environment. And California to me as a concept or as an idea always seems like endless optimism and endless opportunity - when people think of California they think of palm trees and blue skies and gorgeous sunsets and beaches and everything else. But there's also this weirdness to California, this darkness, it's a place where people come to follow their dreams and sometimes don't make it.

I feel like being in a band, you get license to be a kid forever.

When I was growing up skateboarding, a bunch of friends and I went to this thrift store and as we were leaving I jumped up and passed gas in my friend's face. I turned around and it wasn't my friend, it was this nice old lady who was just walking out of the store. That was probably one of the more awkward apologies I've had to make in my life.

I don't think any of us felt like, "Oh, we need to put joke songs on the record." If we found something funny, we would record it, and if we wanted to, we'd put it on the record. It's not really something we spent too much time agonizing over.

I think when people are jumping on top of each other's ideas, it elevates it a lot more than me going into the studio and working on something all by myself for a while.

If at first you don't succeed, pay someone else to do it for you.

Every single day that you walk outside your house is something new and different and exciting.