My life is nothing but pressure. All pressure. This pressure is like a heaviness. It's always on top of me, this heaviness. It's always there since I'm a kid. Other people wake up in the morning, 'A new day! Ah, up and at 'em!' I wake up, the heaviness is waiting for me nice. Sometimes I even talk to it. I say [adopts cheerful voice] 'Hi, heaviness!' and the heaviness looks back at me, [in an ominous growl] 'Today you're gonna get it good. You'll be drinking early today.'

Boy what a hotel that was, why they stole my towel.

My parents didn't like me. For bathtub toys they gave me a blender and a transistor radio.

I asked him "Who said you could fool around with my wife" he said everybody.

Last Halloween a kid tried to rip my face off. He thought it was a mask. Now it's different when I open the door the kids hand me candy.

My family was a bunch of drunks. When I was six I came up missing, they put my picture on a bottle of scotch.

Better to keep quiet and let people think you're an idiot than speak up and confirm it.