Someone called all the newspapers in New York and told them I'd died. I've been told by almost everyone it was an ex-wife - I've had a few so it's hard to pinpoint which one - but who knows for sure?

It's been a struggle for me because I had a chance to be white and refused.

What I never understand about a hangover is, where does the breath come from? You know what I mean? I mean, is someone shitting in your mouth?

A sold-out house my first night back. Do you have any idea what kinda pressure that is? I could have been at home in my warm bed, playing Nintendo.

I think about being married again, having a home and a wife. No one can ever be married too many times, and maybe if I keep trying I'll get it right one day.

Now they're calling taking drugs an epidemic - that's cos white folks are doing it.

I never met anybody who said when they were a kid, I wanna grow up and be a critic.