I was reading the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything.

In Vegas, I got into a long argument with the man at the roulette wheel over what I considered to be an odd number.

A fool and his money are soon partying.

It usually helps me write by reading - somehow the reading gear in your head turns the writing gear.

When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

When I was five years old I was on a merry go round. There was a gunshot nearby. The horses stampeded. There I was running down the street on a purple wooden horse.

I was going to tape some records onto a cassette, but I got the wires backwards. I erased the all of the records. When I returned them to my friend, he said, "Hey, these records are all blank."