Sometimes in New York, you're walking down the street and you realize there's a girl walking in front of you whose thighs you could hit a golf ball through, and maybe that makes you depressed.

I now know my right from my left and my up from my down. Unluckily, my terrible sense of direction remains. For me, to live in New York City is to never be able to meet someone on the northeast corner. It is to never ever make a smooth entrance, always to get caught looking lost on the street.

For me, nothing brings out my 'born yesterday' idiotic qualities quite like having my photograph taken.

Life starts out with everyone clapping when you take a poo and goes downhill from there.

Suburbia is too close to the country to have anything real to do and too close to the city to admit you have nothing real to do.

We all deserve to be congratulated, but sadly that would mean there's no one left to do the congratulating.

Insomniacs tend to fall into two general categories - those who give up and those who don't. I don't. I refuse to admit defeat by turning on the light. I will not try to read or watch a movie, thank you. Productivity is a crutch of the weak.