Making my family laugh when I was little - it became an addiction. It was a kind of survival.

My stepfather, John O'Hara, was the goodest man there was. He was not a man of many words, but of carefully chosen ones. He was the one parent who didn't try to fix me. One night I sat on his lap in his chair by the wood stove, sobbing. He just held me quietly and then asked only, "What does it feel like?" It was the first time I was prompted to articulate it. I thought about it, then said, "I feel homesick." That still feels like the most accurate description - I felt homesick, but I was home.

Nothing is taboo if you have an angle on it.

Nothing is taboo if you have an angle on it. That said, critiquing women's human shells isn't my thang. Though there's probably something funny or interesting to be said about those who do it, and what that comes from.

I'm all sentimental. I've probably been ruined by romantic movies, but I really do believe in love. I've experienced it, I've had it, so I know it's real.

If you sell the Vatican and you take that money and you use it to feed every single human being on the planet, you will get cah-azy pussy. All the pussy. I don't mean literally. That might not be your cup of tea. I don't know what your version of 'all the pussy' is. But you'll get all the pussy.

Also, I learned whether you are gay, bisexual, it doesn't matter, you know... because, at the end of the day, they're both gross. But mostly, I learned that elderly black women are wise beyond their years... but younger black women are prostitutes.