To me this is not yelling. I am not yelling. I'm just passionate about my opinions and I want to tell you all of them before you start talking again.
You're a kid, your whole life is awesome. It's awesome, right? You had no money, no ID, no cell phone, no nothing, no keys to the house. You just ran outside into the woods. You weren't scared of nothing. I challenge you to do that as an adult. All your IDs, all your credit cards - just run out of the house with no phone, turn the corner where you can't see your house, and not have a full on panic attack.
Nothing worse than when a 6 acts like a 10.
Your twenties is all about taking your childhood out on everyone that you run into.
I love my dog. I hate bankers. I have issues with women. In my head, I’m a great guy.
I've never wanted to kill myself over anything major. It's always the little things that do me in.
My neighbor's not even listening to me. He's all excited about some garden hose he bought at Brookstone. He's convinced it was designed by NASA. "Actually, it's got two nozzles, one for the hot and one for the..." Really? Is it long enough to go around both our necks and the chimney so we can tandem jump off of this? That's all I really care about you and your little garden hose.
What would you rather be? 52 and look 52, or 52 and look like a 28-year-old lizard?
Any other town you go to there's this little devil and a little angel on your shoulder. A little good advice, a little bad advice.You go to Las Vegas, there's like a devil and a devil and they're just battling it out the whole time. It's like, "Smoke some crack!" "Get a hooker!" And then I go, "YEA! Yea, this is a good town. Smoke some crack and get a hooker! Alright!"
There's no "brothers" when it comes to white people. We are just complete individuals. We don't care about each other. He's not my brother; my brother lives in Ohio - I don't know that guy.
