I don't know what to say to that, but I have to agree with Johnny that, yeah, we do touch upon things that most men would rather not admit: That we feel pain, we cry, get sad and sometimes don't deal well with disappointment.

I used to try to run five miles every other day, which I worked up to and I was doing it, but I was subjected to my own thoughts for forty minutes without any sensory input, and I couldn't stand what I thought.

I like to put on hardcore when I have to clean my apartment, which I hate to do, but it's motivational. I like old heavy metal when I'm outside working on my car. Music has definite functions for me.

It seems to be that southern Europeans are just more intimate socially, whereas I like a lot of personal space - like, a mile from the nearest person is fine for me.

I stay way from that area, and there's only so many songs you can write about love, sex and death.

My mother always told me if I really didn't wan to do something, if I was really tired, but if I had helped someone and I really went out of my way for them but I asked nothing for it, that I should donate my energy to the souls in purgatory-meaning that to give my goodness to those who are trapped. This is purgatory/limbo. This is a very Catholic thing that very few people really understand.

I'm a big fan of the effects of alcohol.