I tap a Malediction out of the box, fire it up, and puff. It tastes like a tire fire in a candy factory next door to a strip club. The best cigarettes ever.

Don't talk. Kill it." That might be the sweetest thing a woman's ever said to me on a first date.

When you're born in a burning house, you think the whole world is on fire. But it's not.

When you jump off a cliff, is it better to land on jagged rocks or burning lava? I know this one. The answer is obvious: It doesn't matter where you land. You just jumped off a cliff.

There are two Venices I know about and one of them is a hotel in Vegas. The other is an L.A. beach where pretty girls walk their dogs while wearing as little as possible and mutant slabs of tanned, posthuman beef sip iced steroid lattes and pump iron until their pecs are the size of Volkswagens.

God is the great janitor of the universe. Why things don't work is that we have a janitor in charge, and we keep looking for the landlord.

If I learned anything Downtown, it's this: the only real difference between an enemy and a friend is the day of the week.