I wanted to live with the ****ing manta rays, but they banned me from Sea World.

Remember that Cosby show where he harrassed the children? Well I put on a little suit and because I am so small they invited me on but nobody was laughing at my jokes. I guess I'm just, too, particularly smart for them.

The problem is, I cannot meditate. That's the one thing I can't do. That's the thing that's driving me nuts. I have a house by the sea, and I can sit and listen to the sound of the sea and eventually... but I can't really do it.

Every move you make has already been done, and taken the piss out of.

I think no artist can claim to have any access to the truth, or an authentic version of an event. But obviously they have slightly better means at their disposal because they have their art to energize whatever it is they're trying to write about. They have music.

If you forget about the money issue for just a minute, if it's possible to do that - because these are people's livelihoods we're talking about - and you look at Internet in terms of the most amazing broadcasting network ever built, then it's completely different. In some ways, that's the best way of looking at it.

I tied a bunch of balloons to a beach chair and tried to float up to heaven. *begins to weep* There's no heaven, and birds tried to kill me! *shrivels up*