On my first bowhunt on the property a few years back, I was on my own for twenty-two days and killed an amazing thirty-three head of big game. I'm surprised I even came home. I was in heaven.

Without question Gibson guitars are the finest, most revered guitars on the planet.

Nobody is going to invest a fortune into good orchard land, all the farming equipment necessary, the fertilizer, the seedlings, the nonstop Herculean work effort needed to grow apples, then bring them to the fruit stand for people to take home for free.

I am the Great White Buffalo and I play an American-made Gibson guitar that can blow your head clean off at 100 paces.

Lance Bass needs to quit worrying about outer space and celebrate life by learning how to kill his own food.

Anybody that wants to disarm me can drop dead.

I write incessantly, I'm very productive, I write for a dozen publications and blogs and websites. A lot of very hardcore political stuff. I write a weekly feature. I express myself. But when time comes to make music [with the] same absolutely unleashing of total honesty zero inhibitions, it just flows like a stream of conscientiousness because I will not be silenced no matter what my point might be.