LO2

Violence is fun, man.
Quentin Tarantino

My favorite band ever was Slayer. Those guys were some of the most charming and delightful people I’ve ever met.
Judy Negley, Co-Owner of Independent Records and Video, Colorado Springs, CO

The humane society showing up for Ozzy Osbourne, that was fabulous. We had these caged doves by where he was going to be signing, and they had these little signs on them that said, “Oh No, Ozzy”s Coming!” The humane society showed up with their trucks and stayed there the whole time.
Judy Negley, Co-Owner of Independent Records and Video, Colorado Springs, CO

Why can’t rock music be about growing old?
Roger Daltrey of the Who, who once sang “Hope I die before I get old”

Britney was absolutely devastated when I told her.
Taryn Manning, on telling Britney Spears that the Japanese symbols tattooed on her hipbone were meaningless gibberish

Prince smiles and holds his hands out in front of him, as if weighing an object in each. “Let’s see,” he says, “sleep, or a half a million dollars? Sleep, or a half a million dollars?”
Anthony DeCurtis, on asking Prince why he booked a tour with so few days off

My relationship with my toaster is delicious, but completely one-sided.
Chuck Klosterman, "Toast in the Machine," from Esquire, 2004

Normal is a cycle on a washing machine.
Emmylou Harris

Don’t worry about suffering. It will happen. Just stand on the tracks long enough and the train will run you right down.
Pete Seeger

Senator Joe Lieberman wrote some kind of letter to us. I corrected the spelling and sent it back.
Johnny Knoxville, when asked if politicians ever gave him a hard time.

We didn’t send you to Washington to make intelligent decisions. We sent you to represent us.
Kent York, Baptist Minister, to U.S. Representative Bill Sarpalius

My favorite one, that fits me perfectly, is an Offspring shirt. It’s a vintage t-shirt I picked up on Melrose. It was, like, fifty dollars.
Avril Lavigne, on her favorite t-shirt, making me feel really old

Loneliness: There is no organ that can take it all.
Nicole Krauss, “The Last Words on Earth,” from The New Yorker, February 9th, 2004

I may be a fool but I’m not desperate. I thanked her very much for the offer, but said that I was going to have to have to turn it down since I was already scheduled to sit on my thumb and rotate in accordance with the movements of the earth around the sun. She was disappointed.
Nicole Krauss, “The Last Words on Earth,” from The New Yorker, February 9th, 2004

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.
Edmund Burke, not Bobby Kennedy

I was a professional smoker, and I still miss it. I know she was trying to kill me, but I really loved the bitch.
Brad Pitt

He was only relevant by accident.
Morrissey, on David Bowie, explaining why I’ve never been a fan of Morrissey

More seldom than not, the movies gives us exquisite sex and wholesome violence, that underscores our values. Every two child did. I will.
President George W. Bush

It’s like the IRA on speed.
Colleague of Molly Bingham, on the developing resistance forces in Iraq

Violence is fun, man.
Quentin Tarantino

My favorite band ever was Slayer. Those guys were some of the most charming and delightful people I’ve ever met.
Judy Negley, Co-Owner of Independent Records and Video, Colorado Springs, CO

The humane society showing up for Ozzy Osbourne, that was fabulous. We had these caged doves by where he was going to be signing, and they had these little signs on them that said, “Oh No, Ozzy”s Coming!” The humane society showed up with their trucks and stayed there the whole time.
Judy Negley, Co-Owner of Independent Records and Video, Colorado Springs, CO

Why can’t rock music be about growing old?
Roger Daltrey of the Who, who once sang “Hope I die before I get old”

Britney was absolutely devastated when I told her.
Taryn Manning, on telling Britney Spears that the Japanese symbols tattooed on her hipbone were meaningless gibberish

Prince smiles and holds his hands out in front of him, as if weighing an object in each. “Let’s see,” he says, “sleep, or a half a million dollars? Sleep, or a half a million dollars?”
Anthony DeCurtis, on asking Prince why he booked a tour with so few days off

My relationship with my toaster is delicious, but completely one-sided.
Chuck Klosterman, "Toast in the Machine," from Esquire, 2004

Normal is a cycle on a washing machine.
Emmylou Harris

Don’t worry about suffering. It will happen. Just stand on the tracks long enough and the train will run you right down.
Pete Seeger

Senator Joe Lieberman wrote some kind of letter to us. I corrected the spelling and sent it back.
Johnny Knoxville, when asked if politicians ever gave him a hard time.

We didn’t send you to Washington to make intelligent decisions. We sent you to represent us.
Kent York, Baptist Minister, to U.S. Representative Bill Sarpalius

My favorite one, that fits me perfectly, is an Offspring shirt. It’s a vintage t-shirt I picked up on Melrose. It was, like, fifty dollars.
Avril Lavigne, on her favorite t-shirt, making me feel really old

Loneliness: There is no organ that can take it all.
Nicole Krauss, “The Last Words on Earth,” from The New Yorker, February 9th, 2004

I may be a fool but I’m not desperate. I thanked her very much for the offer, but said that I was going to have to have to turn it down since I was already scheduled to sit on my thumb and rotate in accordance with the movements of the earth around the sun. She was disappointed.
Nicole Krauss, “The Last Words on Earth,” from The New Yorker, February 9th, 2004

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.
Edmund Burke, not Bobby Kennedy

I was a professional smoker, and I still miss it. I know she was trying to kill me, but I really loved the bitch.
Brad Pitt

He was only relevant by accident.
Morrissey, on David Bowie, explaining why I’ve never been a fan of Morrissey

More seldom than not, the movies gives us exquisite sex and wholesome violence, that underscores our values. Every two child did. I will.
President George W. Bush

It’s like the IRA on speed.
Colleague of Molly Bingham, on the developing resistance forces in Iraq

One morning I got up, jumped in my Volkswagen bus, drove down to Peter Tork's house, got out, walked through the living room, and went and lay down by the pool before I realized I hadn't put any clothes on.
David Crosby, on the Summer of 1968 in Laurel Canyon

One morning I got up, jumped in my Volkswagen bus, drove down to Peter Tork's house, got out, walked through the living room, and went and lay down by the pool before I realized I hadn't put any clothes on.
David Crosby, on the Summer of 1968 in Laurel Canyon

Roy's God was a girl, about twelve years old, slim and lazy with lit, dewy eyes and sharp little teeth. She could be generous and fond one minute and casually vicious the next.
Molly Giles, "Two Words," from The Missouri Review, 2003

Read the Story Here.

Roy's God was a girl, about twelve years old, slim and lazy with lit, dewy eyes and sharp little teeth. She could be generous and fond one minute and casually vicious the next.
Molly Giles, "Two Words," from The Missouri Review, 2003

Read the Story Here.

Imagine separating kids according to color when we couldn't even see each other. Now ain't that a bitch!
Ray Charles, in reference to the segregated Florida School for the Deaf and Blind he attended as a child

Death is the one motherfucker that ain't ever going away.
Ray Charles

You can't make a deal with death. No, sir. And you can't make a deal with God. Death is coldblooded, and maybe God is too.
Ray Charles

If you're going to write a good song, you're going to have to praise a woman. That's the key.
Ray Charles

Maybe I put together two things that hadn't been put together before, but, hell, give credit to the church singers and the bluesmen who I got it from. I got enough credit. Let people know that it didn't come from me. It came from before me.
Ray Charles, on being credited as the inventor of soul music

Imagine separating kids according to color when we couldn't even see each other. Now ain't that a bitch!
Ray Charles, in reference to the segregated Florida School for the Deaf and Blind he attended as a child

Death is the one motherfucker that ain't ever going away.
Ray Charles

You can't make a deal with death. No, sir. And you can't make a deal with God. Death is coldblooded, and maybe God is too.
Ray Charles

If you're going to write a good song, you're going to have to praise a woman. That's the key.
Ray Charles

Maybe I put together two things that hadn't been put together before, but, hell, give credit to the church singers and the bluesmen who I got it from. I got enough credit. Let people know that it didn't come from me. It came from before me.
Ray Charles, on being credited as the inventor of soul music

"Action stick is future of all videogame. Action Stick provides full motion with real action yourself playing martial arts games." So reads the info sheet for this peripheral, which has you waving your hands in front of sensors instead of pressing buttons. But what Action Stick's broken English doesn't tell you is that when attach to martial arts game for try action go, your attacks don't go much beyond hopping like silly ass.
Seanbaby

"Action stick is future of all videogame. Action Stick provides full motion with real action yourself playing martial arts games." So reads the info sheet for this peripheral, which has you waving your hands in front of sensors instead of pressing buttons. But what Action Stick's broken English doesn't tell you is that when attach to martial arts game for try action go, your attacks don't go much beyond hopping like silly ass.
Seanbaby

One of the reasons I became an actor was that I'd heard you could meet queers in the British theatre. And it's true. Thank goodness.
Sir Ian McKellen

Bar staff complaining that passive smoking poses a health risk to them. So your job is to cajole people to buy tasty poison, break up fights, get bottled, mop up spew, breathe in old mens' aspirated diseases as they bellow for more beer over the counter, deal with a dozen different kinds of physical assault -- and it's passive smoking that's a threat to your health? You don't need new laws -- you need new jobs. (No, this has nothing to do with the web. Shut up.)
Warren Ellis, on things he hates about the web

I Don't. Buy the tomatoes with. The stems. On them. They don't. Degrade. They go. Down the sink. And into the water. Then. They get lodged in the throats of little. Otters.
Christopher Walken

And when people refer to something "smelling like sex," they are most likely responding to the classic combination of sweat, semen, vaginal fluid, strawberry wine, Lysol, an sometimes, if you're very lucky, a little hope.
Stacy Grenrock Woods

McMahon wondered if he should follow the crabs out to sea. He took a deep breath. He started talking to himself. "I gotta get outta here," he said. "Crabs are talking to me. When a crab talks, it's time to go home."
Robert Kurson, Shadow Divers

One of the reasons I became an actor was that I'd heard you could meet queers in the British theatre. And it's true. Thank goodness.
Sir Ian McKellen

Bar staff complaining that passive smoking poses a health risk to them. So your job is to cajole people to buy tasty poison, break up fights, get bottled, mop up spew, breathe in old mens' aspirated diseases as they bellow for more beer over the counter, deal with a dozen different kinds of physical assault -- and it's passive smoking that's a threat to your health? You don't need new laws -- you need new jobs. (No, this has nothing to do with the web. Shut up.)
Warren Ellis, on things he hates about the web

I Don't. Buy the tomatoes with. The stems. On them. They don't. Degrade. They go. Down the sink. And into the water. Then. They get lodged in the throats of little. Otters.
Christopher Walken

And when people refer to something "smelling like sex," they are most likely responding to the classic combination of sweat, semen, vaginal fluid, strawberry wine, Lysol, an sometimes, if you're very lucky, a little hope.
Stacy Grenrock Woods

McMahon wondered if he should follow the crabs out to sea. He took a deep breath. He started talking to himself. "I gotta get outta here," he said. "Crabs are talking to me. When a crab talks, it's time to go home."
Robert Kurson, Shadow Divers

I pictured a rangy Asian cowgirl in a lab coat and Stetson, a bandolier of specimen vials jangling against her modest cleavage as she clutches in one hand the reins of a galloping stallion, in the other a filament delicate enough to boink a few islet cells into a failing pancreas.
James McManus, "Please Stand By While the Age of Miracles is Briefly Suspended"

Let's not flatter ourselves: If we do not find it within ourselves to identify the terrorism inspired by radical Islam as an unequivocal evil - and to pronounce ourselves morally superior to it - then we have lost the ability to identify any evil at all, and out democracy is not only diminished, it dissolves into the meaninglessness of privilege.
Tom Junod, "The Case for George W. Bush"

I'd like to talk to Jesus about those twelve disciples. They were a great public relations team.
Jack LaLanne, "What I've Learned"

Would you get your dog up every day, give him a cup of coffee, a doughnut, and a cigarette? Hell, no. You'd kill the damn dog.
Jack LaLanne, "What I've Learned"

We're talking bass. The most mustachioed of sports. Bass as in badass jammed together to form a single handy monosyllable.
Benjamin Alsup, "A Fish Story"

I pictured a rangy Asian cowgirl in a lab coat and Stetson, a bandolier of specimen vials jangling against her modest cleavage as she clutches in one hand the reins of a galloping stallion, in the other a filament delicate enough to boink a few islet cells into a failing pancreas.
James McManus, "Please Stand By While the Age of Miracles is Briefly Suspended"

Let's not flatter ourselves: If we do not find it within ourselves to identify the terrorism inspired by radical Islam as an unequivocal evil - and to pronounce ourselves morally superior to it - then we have lost the ability to identify any evil at all, and out democracy is not only diminished, it dissolves into the meaninglessness of privilege.
Tom Junod, "The Case for George W. Bush"

I'd like to talk to Jesus about those twelve disciples. They were a great public relations team.
Jack LaLanne, "What I've Learned"

Would you get your dog up every day, give him a cup of coffee, a doughnut, and a cigarette? Hell, no. You'd kill the damn dog.
Jack LaLanne, "What I've Learned"

We're talking bass. The most mustachioed of sports. Bass as in badass jammed together to form a single handy monosyllable.
Benjamin Alsup, "A Fish Story"

A dusty thudding in his head made the scene before him beat like a pulse. His mouth had been used as a latrine by some small creature of the night, and then as its mausoleum. During the night, too, he'd somehow been on a cross-country run and then been expertly beaten up by the secret police. He felt bad.
Kingsley Amis, Lucky Jim

A dusty thudding in his head made the scene before him beat like a pulse. His mouth had been used as a latrine by some small creature of the night, and then as its mausoleum. During the night, too, he'd somehow been on a cross-country run and then been expertly beaten up by the secret police. He felt bad.
Kingsley Amis, Lucky Jim

We cannot be content, no matter how high that general standard of living may be, if some fraction of our people--whether it be one-third or one-fifth or one-tenth - is ill-fed, ill-clothed, ill-housed, and insecure.
Franklin Delano Roosevelt

If at first you don't succeed, failure may be your style.
Quentin Crisp

It's dirty hands or no hands at all.
Bertolt Brecht

We cannot be content, no matter how high that general standard of living may be, if some fraction of our people--whether it be one-third or one-fifth or one-tenth - is ill-fed, ill-clothed, ill-housed, and insecure.
Franklin Delano Roosevelt

If at first you don't succeed, failure may be your style.
Quentin Crisp

It's dirty hands or no hands at all.
Bertolt Brecht

Hopefully, if there are any terrorists around, they'll have a look at what's out here today and go somewhere else...wait...that's a horrible thought.
Wall street employee, remarking on the troops deployed to protect financial centers from a suspected potential terrorist attack

Hopefully, if there are any terrorists around, they'll have a look at what's out here today and go somewhere else...wait...that's a horrible thought.
Wall street employee, remarking on the troops deployed to protect financial centers from a suspected potential terrorist attack

I don't think about whether people will remember me or not. I've been an okay person. I've learned a lot. I've taught people a thing or two. That's what's important. Sooner or later the public will forget you, the memory of you will fade. What's important are the individuals you've influenced along the way.

Always remember: If you're alone in the kitchen and you drop the lamb, you can always just pick it up. Who's going to know?

Fat gives things flavor.

Playing golf with men can throw off your stroke.

There is nothing worse than grilled vegetables.

Celebrity has its uses: I can always get a seat in any restaurant.

A cookbook is only as good as its poorest recipe.

I'm awfully sorry for people who are taken in by all of today's dietary mumbo jumbo. They are not getting any enjoyment out of their food.

Moderation. Small helpings. Sample a little bit of everything. These are the secrets of happiness and good health. You need to enjoy the good things in life, but you need not overindulge.

I don't eat between meals. I don't snack. Well, I do eat those little fish crackers. They're fattening, but irresistible.

You must have discipline to have fun.

The problem with the world right now is that we don't have any politicians like Roosevelt or Churchill to give us meaning and depth. We don't have anyone who's speaking for the great and the true and the noble. What we need now is a heroic type, someone who could rally the people to higher deeds. I don't know what's to become of us.

Drama is very important in life: You have to come on with a bang. You never want to go out with a whimper. Everything can have drama if it's done right. Even a pancake.

Julia quotes taken from What I've Learned by Mike Sager

I don't think about whether people will remember me or not. I've been an okay person. I've learned a lot. I've taught people a thing or two. That's what's important. Sooner or later the public will forget you, the memory of you will fade. What's important are the individuals you've influenced along the way.

Always remember: If you're alone in the kitchen and you drop the lamb, you can always just pick it up. Who's going to know?

Fat gives things flavor.

Playing golf with men can throw off your stroke.

There is nothing worse than grilled vegetables.

Celebrity has its uses: I can always get a seat in any restaurant.

A cookbook is only as good as its poorest recipe.

I'm awfully sorry for people who are taken in by all of today's dietary mumbo jumbo. They are not getting any enjoyment out of their food.

Moderation. Small helpings. Sample a little bit of everything. These are the secrets of happiness and good health. You need to enjoy the good things in life, but you need not overindulge.

I don't eat between meals. I don't snack. Well, I do eat those little fish crackers. They're fattening, but irresistible.

You must have discipline to have fun.

The problem with the world right now is that we don't have any politicians like Roosevelt or Churchill to give us meaning and depth. We don't have anyone who's speaking for the great and the true and the noble. What we need now is a heroic type, someone who could rally the people to higher deeds. I don't know what's to become of us.

Drama is very important in life: You have to come on with a bang. You never want to go out with a whimper. Everything can have drama if it's done right. Even a pancake.

Julia quotes taken from What I've Learned by Mike Sager

Pierce could smell her body lotion. It made him think of her as a fruit with skin.
Steve Almond, "The Nasty Kind Always Are"

He had long ago ceased trying to divine the mysterious insides of a woman. There were spots that felt good, warm, fleshy knobs, sudden pockets of air - he had no idea.
Steve Almond, "The Nasty Kind Always Are"

And now, in a hotel suite overlooking the whole loathsome valley of San Fernando, with the hot breath of summer curling in from the balcony, with his fingers squinching about deep inside a semi-employed tart of indeterminate age, his frustration got the best of him.
Steve Almond, "The Nasty Kind Always Are"

Pierce could smell her body lotion. It made him think of her as a fruit with skin.
Steve Almond, "The Nasty Kind Always Are"

He had long ago ceased trying to divine the mysterious insides of a woman. There were spots that felt good, warm, fleshy knobs, sudden pockets of air - he had no idea.
Steve Almond, "The Nasty Kind Always Are"

And now, in a hotel suite overlooking the whole loathsome valley of San Fernando, with the hot breath of summer curling in from the balcony, with his fingers squinching about deep inside a semi-employed tart of indeterminate age, his frustration got the best of him.
Steve Almond, "The Nasty Kind Always Are"

From Futurama, Episode 405, "A Taste of Freedom"

Fry
I'm having one of those things, you know, a headache with pictures.
Leela
An Idea?
Fry
(nodding) Mmmm! Hmm Hmm Hmm!!

From Futurama, Episode 405, "A Taste of Freedom"

Fry
I'm having one of those things, you know, a headache with pictures.
Leela
An Idea?
Fry
(nodding) Mmmm! Hmm Hmm Hmm!!

Even as you vomit and scream and bang your head on the cement floor with the hope that the pain you create in your head will at least momentarily distract you from the pain in your knees, he lights another cigarette, picks his nose, farts.
Nicholas Montemarano, "The November Fifteen"

If the world were full of da Vincis, we'd all be quarrelsome, gay, left-handed Italians who couldn't finish a painting.
Bruce Sterling, "The Evolution Will Be Mechanized"

Even as you vomit and scream and bang your head on the cement floor with the hope that the pain you create in your head will at least momentarily distract you from the pain in your knees, he lights another cigarette, picks his nose, farts.
Nicholas Montemarano, "The November Fifteen"

If the world were full of da Vincis, we'd all be quarrelsome, gay, left-handed Italians who couldn't finish a painting.
Bruce Sterling, "The Evolution Will Be Mechanized"

I love Annie, love her ass. She was one photographer I don't mind having shoot me. It's an honor. She really captures my soul
Brian Wilson

Brian and I did get along. I never knew why. Now I learn it's my ass. In those days, you know, whatever worked.
Annie Leibovitz

Taken from Rolling Stone #958, The Photographs: The Fifty Greatest Portraits and the Stories Behind Them.

I love Annie, love her ass. She was one photographer I don't mind having shoot me. It's an honor. She really captures my soul
Brian Wilson

Brian and I did get along. I never knew why. Now I learn it's my ass. In those days, you know, whatever worked.
Annie Leibovitz

Taken from Rolling Stone #958, The Photographs: The Fifty Greatest Portraits and the Stories Behind Them.

She showed us, moving like language across the water.
John Hodgen, "My Mother Swimming"

Each instant is a place where we've never been
Mark Strand

Even if you drink unsweetened tea and have a Yankee accent, you're still all right if you love Jesus.
Eve M. Stevens

Set down before her, the wedge of cake, lushly black as creekbed mud, parting under the tines of the fork, brings her to her senses, but then she's sorry, because the whipped cream is an airy petrochemical quotation of real cream, and the aftertaste of licked tire-tread provokes an abrupt tumble into depression.
Elizabeth Tallent, "Eros 101"

As for her hair, it is red and in torment, copious, strenuous, anarchic hair, writhing, heavy, ardent, gorgeous hair tricked into confinement, knotted at the nape of a neck so smooth and white its single mole seems to cast a tiny shadow.
Elizabeth Tallent, "Eros 101"

She showed us, moving like language across the water.
John Hodgen, "My Mother Swimming"

Each instant is a place where we've never been
Mark Strand

Even if you drink unsweetened tea and have a Yankee accent, you're still all right if you love Jesus.
Eve M. Stevens

Set down before her, the wedge of cake, lushly black as creekbed mud, parting under the tines of the fork, brings her to her senses, but then she's sorry, because the whipped cream is an airy petrochemical quotation of real cream, and the aftertaste of licked tire-tread provokes an abrupt tumble into depression.
Elizabeth Tallent, "Eros 101"

As for her hair, it is red and in torment, copious, strenuous, anarchic hair, writhing, heavy, ardent, gorgeous hair tricked into confinement, knotted at the nape of a neck so smooth and white its single mole seems to cast a tiny shadow.
Elizabeth Tallent, "Eros 101"

As a friend of mine said, it takes a half a second for a baby to throw up all over your sweater. It takes hours to get it clean.
Patricia Princehouse, on the addition of Intelligent Design (Creationism) lessons in Ohio schools

The only thing that will redeem mankind is cooperation.
Bertrand Russell

As a friend of mine said, it takes a half a second for a baby to throw up all over your sweater. It takes hours to get it clean.
Patricia Princehouse, on the addition of Intelligent Design (Creationism) lessons in Ohio schools

The only thing that will redeem mankind is cooperation.
Bertrand Russell

Cute chicks in ugly cars are cool.
Joe Hernandez-Kolski

Cute chicks in ugly cars are cool.
Joe Hernandez-Kolski

I do not fear computers. I fear the lack of them.
Isaac Asimov

A woman told me she went to visit an old bullfighter who now raises bulls. She had told him about Sketches of Spain. He said he didn't believe that an American - especially a black American - could make a record that demonstrated such a deep understanding in Spanish culture. She played it for him. When it was finished, he put on his bullfighting outfit and went out and fought a bull for the first time since he had retired. When she asked why, he said he had been so moved by the music that he simply had to.
Miles Davis

Technique. Pleasure-giving. Knowing what your partner desires and doesn't expect. If all else fails, throw a drink in her face and go for it.
Dave Grohl, on being a good lover

I do not fear computers. I fear the lack of them.
Isaac Asimov

A woman told me she went to visit an old bullfighter who now raises bulls. She had told him about Sketches of Spain. He said he didn't believe that an American - especially a black American - could make a record that demonstrated such a deep understanding in Spanish culture. She played it for him. When it was finished, he put on his bullfighting outfit and went out and fought a bull for the first time since he had retired. When she asked why, he said he had been so moved by the music that he simply had to.
Miles Davis

Technique. Pleasure-giving. Knowing what your partner desires and doesn't expect. If all else fails, throw a drink in her face and go for it.
Dave Grohl, on being a good lover

Alistaire Stuart: Have you tried...?
Shadowcat: Yup.
Alistaire Stuart: Perhaps then...?
Shadowcat: That, too.
Alistaire Stuart: Alternatively...
Shadowcat: First thing.
From Excalibur: Mojo Mayhem by Chris Claremont and Arthur Adams

Ricochet Rita: Ohhh, if you weren't kids, I'd say something really rude...
Wolverine: Say it. Say it!
Also From Excalibur: Mojo Mayhem by Chris Claremont and Arthur Adams

Alistaire Stuart: Have you tried...?
Shadowcat: Yup.
Alistaire Stuart: Perhaps then...?
Shadowcat: That, too.
Alistaire Stuart: Alternatively...
Shadowcat: First thing.
From Excalibur: Mojo Mayhem by Chris Claremont and Arthur Adams

Ricochet Rita: Ohhh, if you weren't kids, I'd say something really rude...
Wolverine: Say it. Say it!
Also From Excalibur: Mojo Mayhem by Chris Claremont and Arthur Adams

I couldn't stand it. Every time I shot at someone, it was a mistake. Every time I blew something up, some kid's head blew off. It was always a mother and a child, and those sumbitches are gone, you know?
Soldier Y, interviewed by Kenneth Cain in "The War Comes Home," a study of the current lack of PTSD treatment for soldiers returning from Iraq

He tells her about the dead-eyed cellmate who, when arrested in a nightclub, had a beer in one hand and a sack stuffed with a woman's head in the other.
Andrew Corsello, "The Wronged Man," about Calvin Willis, a man who spent 22 years in prison for a crime he didn't commit

God damn it, the movie better be the greatest movie ever made. If it's not, I'm gonna kill Anderson. He's a dead man. If it's not the greatest movie ever made, or in the top ten, he may as well just move to China and change his name to Chin, and he better get himself a small room in a small town - and even then, I'll hunt him down.
Bill Murray, on The Life Aquatic

I'm gettin' on the ferry at Martha's Vineyard, and some guy yells out from across the way, 'Bill, what'd ya say to her?' Everyone hears him ask, and I pause for a second with my mouth open and begin to speak. As I start to speak, the foghorn sounds, about a twenty-five second blast, and I just, I acted it out like I was saying something really sincere, and the crowd laughed so hard. It was great. I couldn't have bought that moment.
Bill Murray, telling an anecdote relating to his refusal to tell anyone what he whispered to Scarlett Johansson at the end of Lost in Translation

Katherine had retreated into a compact ball on the other side of the bed. I worried that she'd staked out this far margin to escape my snoring. This was a small concern, but a concern nonetheless, and I was happy for the chance to worry about such a thing before moving on to larger worries like how and why I'd managed to sleep with my girlfriend's best friend.
Benjamin Alsup, "Happy?"

When we hugged, I smelled the familiar combination of recent smoke and more recent chewing gum, and I wanted to climb inside him, wanted a place in the pocket of his jacket, snug between his wallet and his secret pack of Camels.
Benjamin Alsup, "Happy?"

I couldn't stand it. Every time I shot at someone, it was a mistake. Every time I blew something up, some kid's head blew off. It was always a mother and a child, and those sumbitches are gone, you know?
Soldier Y, interviewed by Kenneth Cain in "The War Comes Home," a study of the current lack of PTSD treatment for soldiers returning from Iraq

He tells her about the dead-eyed cellmate who, when arrested in a nightclub, had a beer in one hand and a sack stuffed with a woman's head in the other.
Andrew Corsello, "The Wronged Man," about Calvin Willis, a man who spent 22 years in prison for a crime he didn't commit

God damn it, the movie better be the greatest movie ever made. If it's not, I'm gonna kill Anderson. He's a dead man. If it's not the greatest movie ever made, or in the top ten, he may as well just move to China and change his name to Chin, and he better get himself a small room in a small town - and even then, I'll hunt him down.
Bill Murray, on The Life Aquatic

I'm gettin' on the ferry at Martha's Vineyard, and some guy yells out from across the way, 'Bill, what'd ya say to her?' Everyone hears him ask, and I pause for a second with my mouth open and begin to speak. As I start to speak, the foghorn sounds, about a twenty-five second blast, and I just, I acted it out like I was saying something really sincere, and the crowd laughed so hard. It was great. I couldn't have bought that moment.
Bill Murray, telling an anecdote relating to his refusal to tell anyone what he whispered to Scarlett Johansson at the end of Lost in Translation

Katherine had retreated into a compact ball on the other side of the bed. I worried that she'd staked out this far margin to escape my snoring. This was a small concern, but a concern nonetheless, and I was happy for the chance to worry about such a thing before moving on to larger worries like how and why I'd managed to sleep with my girlfriend's best friend.
Benjamin Alsup, "Happy?"

When we hugged, I smelled the familiar combination of recent smoke and more recent chewing gum, and I wanted to climb inside him, wanted a place in the pocket of his jacket, snug between his wallet and his secret pack of Camels.
Benjamin Alsup, "Happy?"

Until a man is twenty-five, he still thinks, every so often, that under the right circumstances he could be the baddest motherfucker in the world. If I moved to a martial-arts monastery in China and studied real hard for ten years. If my family was wiped out by Colombian drug dealers and I swore myself to revenge. If I got a fatal disease, had one year to live, devoted it to wiping out street crime. If I just dropped out and devoted my life to being bad.
Neal Stephenson, Snow Crash

Thanks to Kam for the quote.

Until a man is twenty-five, he still thinks, every so often, that under the right circumstances he could be the baddest motherfucker in the world. If I moved to a martial-arts monastery in China and studied real hard for ten years. If my family was wiped out by Colombian drug dealers and I swore myself to revenge. If I got a fatal disease, had one year to live, devoted it to wiping out street crime. If I just dropped out and devoted my life to being bad.
Neal Stephenson, Snow Crash

Thanks to Kam for the quote.

On the first day of class, the Visual Arts building reclined before me like an old brick whore, egging me on to show her one, last, good time. I doubted I was up to the task, but regardless, I entered it from the rear, just to give myself the slightest mental edge.
Chip Kidd, The Cheese Monkeys

Luck is probability taken personally.
Penn

All bands ply the quiet-to-loud dynamics these days, copying what Kurt Cobain copied from The Pixies.
Scott Frampton, "The One Band You Must See Next Year"

On the first day of class, the Visual Arts building reclined before me like an old brick whore, egging me on to show her one, last, good time. I doubted I was up to the task, but regardless, I entered it from the rear, just to give myself the slightest mental edge.
Chip Kidd, The Cheese Monkeys

Luck is probability taken personally.
Penn

All bands ply the quiet-to-loud dynamics these days, copying what Kurt Cobain copied from The Pixies.
Scott Frampton, "The One Band You Must See Next Year"

"Everything she says," Maybelle's eyes went into her coffee, another trust broken, "has a pin in it. Even the nice things."
Chip Kidd, The Cheese Monkeys

After ninety-six hours, it's not a pencil anymore, it's a yellow pointypointy that makes marks for you when you give it brain signals and frankly it's bored and wants a life of its own. Can you blame it? Of course you can. Someone made it. How did they get the hard blackyblack in there? Was it Space Beings? The pointypointy drops yellow to the floor. The floor is fifty feet down. You'll drown if you go after it. No more pointypointy. A pen, yes, get a pen. Yes. It would feel clean and good in your hand, if your fingers weren't numb. No blackyblack in it. Bluesygoo.
Chip Kidd, The Cheese Monkeys

"Everything she says," Maybelle's eyes went into her coffee, another trust broken, "has a pin in it. Even the nice things."
Chip Kidd, The Cheese Monkeys

After ninety-six hours, it's not a pencil anymore, it's a yellow pointypointy that makes marks for you when you give it brain signals and frankly it's bored and wants a life of its own. Can you blame it? Of course you can. Someone made it. How did they get the hard blackyblack in there? Was it Space Beings? The pointypointy drops yellow to the floor. The floor is fifty feet down. You'll drown if you go after it. No more pointypointy. A pen, yes, get a pen. Yes. It would feel clean and good in your hand, if your fingers weren't numb. No blackyblack in it. Bluesygoo.
Chip Kidd, The Cheese Monkeys

There's no such thing as free kittens.
Brian P. Cleary, 45, Cleveland, Ohio

There's no such thing as free kittens.
Brian P. Cleary, 45, Cleveland, Ohio

We succeeded in taking that picture [from deep space], and, if you look at it, you see a dot.

That's here. That's home. That's us.

On it, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever lived, lived out their lives. The aggregate of all our joys and sufferings, thousands of confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilizations, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every hopeful child, every mother and father, every inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species, lived there on a mote of dust, suspended in a sunbeam.

The earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of the dot on scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner of the dot. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light.

Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity -- in all this vastness -- there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. It is up to us. It's been said that astronomy is a humbling, and I might add, a character-building experience. To my mind, there is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world.

To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.
Carl Sagan, Reflections on a Mote of Dust

We succeeded in taking that picture [from deep space], and, if you look at it, you see a dot.

That's here. That's home. That's us.

On it, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever lived, lived out their lives. The aggregate of all our joys and sufferings, thousands of confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilizations, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every hopeful child, every mother and father, every inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species, lived there on a mote of dust, suspended in a sunbeam.

The earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of the dot on scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner of the dot. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light.

Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity -- in all this vastness -- there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. It is up to us. It's been said that astronomy is a humbling, and I might add, a character-building experience. To my mind, there is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world.

To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.
Carl Sagan, Reflections on a Mote of Dust

A junkie is someone who's using their body to tell society that something is wrong.
Stella Adler

...and to all the Don Juans out there, and Snoop, remember: Touch. Preach. Tabernacle.
Lil Jon

A junkie is someone who's using their body to tell society that something is wrong.
Stella Adler

...and to all the Don Juans out there, and Snoop, remember: Touch. Preach. Tabernacle.
Lil Jon

Chick on cell: Honey, your boyfriend isn't a boyfriend. He's, like, a boyfriend-substitute...He's, like, the I Can't Believe It's Not Butter of boyfriends.

--Times Square

from Overheard in New York.

Chick on cell: Honey, your boyfriend isn't a boyfriend. He's, like, a boyfriend-substitute...He's, like, the I Can't Believe It's Not Butter of boyfriends.

--Times Square

from Overheard in New York.

I can give no adequate description of the Horror Camp in which my men and myself were to spend the next month of our lives. It was just a barren wilderness, as bare as a chicken run. Corpses lay everywhere, some in huge piles, sometimes they lay singly or in pairs where they had fallen. It took a little time to get used to seeing men women and children collapse as you walked by them and to restrain oneself from going to their assistance. One had to get used early to the idea that the individual just did not count. One knew that five hundred a day were dying and that five hundred a day were going on dying for weeks before anything we could do would have the slightest effect. It was, however, not easy to watch a child choking to death from diphtheria when you knew a tracheotomy and nursing would save it, one saw women drowning in their own vomit because they were too weak to turn over, and men eating worms as they clutched a half loaf of bread purely because they had to eat worms to live and now could scarcely tell the difference. Piles of corpses, naked and obscene, with a woman too weak to stand propping herself against them as she cooked the food we had given her over an open fire; men and women crouching down just anywhere in the open relieving themselves of the dysentery which was scouring their bowels, a woman standing stark naked washing herself with some issue soap in water from a tank in which the remains of a child floated. It was shortly after the British Red Cross arrived, though it may have no connection, that a very large quantity of lipstick arrived. This was not at all what we men wanted, we were screaming for hundreds and thousands of other things and I don't know who asked for lipstick. I wish so much that I could discover who did it; it was the action of genius, sheer unadulterated brilliance. I believe nothing did more for these internees than the lipstick. Women lay in bed with no sheets and no nightie but with scarlet red lips, you saw them wandering about with nothing but a blanket over their shoulders, but with scarlet red lips. I saw a woman dead on the post mortem table and clutched in her hand was a piece of lipstick. At last someone had done something to make them individuals again, they were someone, no longer merely the number tattooed on the arm. At last they could take an interest in their appearance. That lipstick started to give them back their humanity.
From the diary of Lieutenant Colonel Mervin Willett Gonin DSO who was among the first British soldiers to liberate Bergen-Belsen in 1945.

I can give no adequate description of the Horror Camp in which my men and myself were to spend the next month of our lives. It was just a barren wilderness, as bare as a chicken run. Corpses lay everywhere, some in huge piles, sometimes they lay singly or in pairs where they had fallen. It took a little time to get used to seeing men women and children collapse as you walked by them and to restrain oneself from going to their assistance. One had to get used early to the idea that the individual just did not count. One knew that five hundred a day were dying and that five hundred a day were going on dying for weeks before anything we could do would have the slightest effect. It was, however, not easy to watch a child choking to death from diphtheria when you knew a tracheotomy and nursing would save it, one saw women drowning in their own vomit because they were too weak to turn over, and men eating worms as they clutched a half loaf of bread purely because they had to eat worms to live and now could scarcely tell the difference. Piles of corpses, naked and obscene, with a woman too weak to stand propping herself against them as she cooked the food we had given her over an open fire; men and women crouching down just anywhere in the open relieving themselves of the dysentery which was scouring their bowels, a woman standing stark naked washing herself with some issue soap in water from a tank in which the remains of a child floated. It was shortly after the British Red Cross arrived, though it may have no connection, that a very large quantity of lipstick arrived. This was not at all what we men wanted, we were screaming for hundreds and thousands of other things and I don't know who asked for lipstick. I wish so much that I could discover who did it; it was the action of genius, sheer unadulterated brilliance. I believe nothing did more for these internees than the lipstick. Women lay in bed with no sheets and no nightie but with scarlet red lips, you saw them wandering about with nothing but a blanket over their shoulders, but with scarlet red lips. I saw a woman dead on the post mortem table and clutched in her hand was a piece of lipstick. At last someone had done something to make them individuals again, they were someone, no longer merely the number tattooed on the arm. At last they could take an interest in their appearance. That lipstick started to give them back their humanity.
From the diary of Lieutenant Colonel Mervin Willett Gonin DSO who was among the first British soldiers to liberate Bergen-Belsen in 1945.

If you’re new to the whole System of a Down phenomenon, a quick primer might be helpful. Imagine the “mamma mia” section of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” set to a Bulgarian wedding dance as played by Slayer and punctuated with a gaggle of vocal personal ads ranging from TV pitchmen to agitprop hucksters to death-metal growlers to a muezzin calling the faithful to prayer—basically, Gilbert and Sullivan at Ozzfest. Weird, right? Now imagine it selling five million copies.
Chris Norris, "Armenian Rhapsody"

If you’re new to the whole System of a Down phenomenon, a quick primer might be helpful. Imagine the “mamma mia” section of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” set to a Bulgarian wedding dance as played by Slayer and punctuated with a gaggle of vocal personal ads ranging from TV pitchmen to agitprop hucksters to death-metal growlers to a muezzin calling the faithful to prayer—basically, Gilbert and Sullivan at Ozzfest. Weird, right? Now imagine it selling five million copies.
Chris Norris, "Armenian Rhapsody"

Communism doesn't work because people like to own stuff.
Frank Zappa

Communism doesn't work because people like to own stuff.
Frank Zappa

"A little baby bird fell out of a bird's nest nest he had," remembers [Specialist] Jesse [Dawson]. Saddam [Hussein] picked it up and threw it straight in the air. The guys all thought it was going to fall back down and go splat. But it spread its wings. "That was kinda neat."
Lisa DePaulo, "Tuesdays with Saddam"

"A little baby bird fell out of a bird's nest nest he had," remembers [Specialist] Jesse [Dawson]. Saddam [Hussein] picked it up and threw it straight in the air. The guys all thought it was going to fall back down and go splat. But it spread its wings. "That was kinda neat."
Lisa DePaulo, "Tuesdays with Saddam"

Little boy #1: Hey! You get McDonald’s for breakfast too!
Little boy #2: Yeah! I’m getting pancakes! I thought I was never going to get pancakes again.
Little boy #1: How come? Your mom doesn’t make pancakes at home?
Little boy #2: No. I only get them here. And I didn’t think I was ever going to taste them again.
Little boy #1: How come?
Little boy #2*: Because after my little brother’s birthday party, my Mom said she’d rather take it up the ass than eat here ever again.

*Who, as he was being led back to a booth by his hysterically laughing mother, was fussing, “BUT I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!”

Little boy #1: Hey! You get McDonald’s for breakfast too!
Little boy #2: Yeah! I’m getting pancakes! I thought I was never going to get pancakes again.
Little boy #1: How come? Your mom doesn’t make pancakes at home?
Little boy #2: No. I only get them here. And I didn’t think I was ever going to taste them again.
Little boy #1: How come?
Little boy #2*: Because after my little brother’s birthday party, my Mom said she’d rather take it up the ass than eat here ever again.

*Who, as he was being led back to a booth by his hysterically laughing mother, was fussing, “BUT I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!”

Well, hellbroth and damnation, oh, mama, could that really have been the beginning, if my little eleven-year-old rod had the power it would have ripped right through my slacks, because I saw it, the music, and don't you tell me that Gene Vincent was the leader of any pack because Memphis was it before I saw Elvis or Jerry Lee or Warren Smith, before I met the Prisonaires before I had even heard of acetate, when cough syrup was the only thing I was on, and I grabbed my daddy hard around the neck, and I pulled and tugged and said "don't you fucking touch her, you fucking bastard!" and outside the Black Boy played an electric blues and I never needed "Hound Dog" or some "Love Me Tender" shit because I was there at the source. I had no time for adolescent rebellion or that Blackboard Jungle greaser imitative second-tier crap because when you're live from the phonograph department at W.T. Grant's in downtown Memphis, when Saturday night is Willie Mitchell and the Four Kings at the Arkansas Plantation Inn, you realize that rock-and-roll is not born, and it does not die. I see the continuum with my own two eyes, suckers, and when my dearest daddy smacked me with a closed fist in that car and my mother scratched at him with her sharp lacquered nails and he bled from the cheek and someone tried to sell him a fifty-cent chicken pie through the window and he said "fuck your nigger food," and smashed it back in that man's face, well, then, it wasn't much of a choice between my family and the blues. It was one and the same. I was in Memphis, boy.
Neal Pollack, Never Mind the Pollacks

Well, hellbroth and damnation, oh, mama, could that really have been the beginning, if my little eleven-year-old rod had the power it would have ripped right through my slacks, because I saw it, the music, and don't you tell me that Gene Vincent was the leader of any pack because Memphis was it before I saw Elvis or Jerry Lee or Warren Smith, before I met the Prisonaires before I had even heard of acetate, when cough syrup was the only thing I was on, and I grabbed my daddy hard around the neck, and I pulled and tugged and said "don't you fucking touch her, you fucking bastard!" and outside the Black Boy played an electric blues and I never needed "Hound Dog" or some "Love Me Tender" shit because I was there at the source. I had no time for adolescent rebellion or that Blackboard Jungle greaser imitative second-tier crap because when you're live from the phonograph department at W.T. Grant's in downtown Memphis, when Saturday night is Willie Mitchell and the Four Kings at the Arkansas Plantation Inn, you realize that rock-and-roll is not born, and it does not die. I see the continuum with my own two eyes, suckers, and when my dearest daddy smacked me with a closed fist in that car and my mother scratched at him with her sharp lacquered nails and he bled from the cheek and someone tried to sell him a fifty-cent chicken pie through the window and he said "fuck your nigger food," and smashed it back in that man's face, well, then, it wasn't much of a choice between my family and the blues. It was one and the same. I was in Memphis, boy.
Neal Pollack, Never Mind the Pollacks

To discover the truth, I now find myself interviewing people at least twenty years younger than I, or more. It makes me uncomfortable, because I want to sleep with all the women, especially Sleater-Kinney, who can make beautiful noise that seems abstracted from their mouths, fingers, bodies, and instruments. They make me want to suck in my gut and remove my chin fat with a surgical hose. Well, do you blame me? They're hot.
Neal Pollack, Never Mind the Pollacks

Pollack rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He pulled his cats Max and Kansas City out of his duffel bag, where they'd been suffocating. They panted feebly and scratched at him. "Well, kitties," he said. "London again! Won't this be a delightful adventure?"
Neal Pollack, Never Mind the Pollacks

To discover the truth, I now find myself interviewing people at least twenty years younger than I, or more. It makes me uncomfortable, because I want to sleep with all the women, especially Sleater-Kinney, who can make beautiful noise that seems abstracted from their mouths, fingers, bodies, and instruments. They make me want to suck in my gut and remove my chin fat with a surgical hose. Well, do you blame me? They're hot.
Neal Pollack, Never Mind the Pollacks

Pollack rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He pulled his cats Max and Kansas City out of his duffel bag, where they'd been suffocating. They panted feebly and scratched at him. "Well, kitties," he said. "London again! Won't this be a delightful adventure?"
Neal Pollack, Never Mind the Pollacks

The police are looting. This has been confirmed by several independent sources. Some of the looting might be "legitimate" in as much as that word has any meaning in this context. They have broken into ATMs and safes: confirmed. We have eyewitnesses to this. They have taken dozens of SUVs from dealerships ostensibly for official use. They have also looted gun stores and pawn shops for all the small arms, supposedly to prevent "criminals" from doing so. But who knows their true intentions. We have an inside source in the NOPD who says that command and control is in chaos. He reports that command lapses more than 24 hours between check-ins, and that most of the force are "like deer in the headlights." NOPD already had a reputation for corruption, but I am telling you now that the people we've been talking to say they are not recognizing the NOPD as a legitimate authority anymore, since cops have been seen looting in Walmarts and forcing people out of stores so they could back up SUVs and loot them.

From Interdictor, the only blog up and running in New Orleans.

The police are looting. This has been confirmed by several independent sources. Some of the looting might be "legitimate" in as much as that word has any meaning in this context. They have broken into ATMs and safes: confirmed. We have eyewitnesses to this. They have taken dozens of SUVs from dealerships ostensibly for official use. They have also looted gun stores and pawn shops for all the small arms, supposedly to prevent "criminals" from doing so. But who knows their true intentions. We have an inside source in the NOPD who says that command and control is in chaos. He reports that command lapses more than 24 hours between check-ins, and that most of the force are "like deer in the headlights." NOPD already had a reputation for corruption, but I am telling you now that the people we've been talking to say they are not recognizing the NOPD as a legitimate authority anymore, since cops have been seen looting in Walmarts and forcing people out of stores so they could back up SUVs and loot them.

From Interdictor, the only blog up and running in New Orleans.

Elvis was not first. I was the first son of a gun out here: me and Chuck Berry. And I'm very sick of the lie. You know, we are over that black-and white crap, and that was all the reason Elvis got the appreciation that he did. I'm the dude that he copied, and I'm not even mentioned. I'm still here - seventy-six years old, feeling good and still working. But I don't know how much longer I can stand by and see somebody else get all the glory. I've been out here for fifty years, man, and I haven't ever seen a royalty check.
Bo Diddley, telling the truth.

Elvis was not first. I was the first son of a gun out here: me and Chuck Berry. And I'm very sick of the lie. You know, we are over that black-and white crap, and that was all the reason Elvis got the appreciation that he did. I'm the dude that he copied, and I'm not even mentioned. I'm still here - seventy-six years old, feeling good and still working. But I don't know how much longer I can stand by and see somebody else get all the glory. I've been out here for fifty years, man, and I haven't ever seen a royalty check.
Bo Diddley, telling the truth.

I've never really gotten the knack of talking to artists. You can't talk to them about how much it pays or about what you think you like. If I think a painting is ugly, somebody just tells me that I don't understand. If I think a painting is good, they tell me the same thing. It's like artists see a different place, a higher place, whereas I'm on the level of some stray dog who only knows how to hunt for pussy or food in a world that's black and white.
Walter Mosley, The Man in My Basement

I've never really gotten the knack of talking to artists. You can't talk to them about how much it pays or about what you think you like. If I think a painting is ugly, somebody just tells me that I don't understand. If I think a painting is good, they tell me the same thing. It's like artists see a different place, a higher place, whereas I'm on the level of some stray dog who only knows how to hunt for pussy or food in a world that's black and white.
Walter Mosley, The Man in My Basement

I haven't read a book in my life.
Victoria "Posh Spice" Beckham

I haven't read a book in my life.
Victoria "Posh Spice" Beckham

(looking at picture) Is that a placenta? No, It's a candy cane.
Nikonius

(looking at picture) Is that a placenta? No, It's a candy cane.
Nikonius

If it doesn't mildly horrify me at this point, it's not porn.
K.W.

If it doesn't mildly horrify me at this point, it's not porn.
K.W.

In a feathery explosion of pages and paperbacks, my mother and father fell to the floor, and the needle of destiny tightened its stitch and shuttled on.
Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason, The Rule of Four

It never fails: walking through the laundry room in winter is like entering a desert mirage, air shivering with heat, bodies fantastic.
Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason, The Rule of Four

The delicious futility of impossible tasks is catnip to overachievers.
Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason, The Rule of Four

Now, suddenly, emotion.
Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason, The Rule of Four (Probably my favorite three word sentence ever.)

There's no worse thief than a bad book.
Italian saying

In a feathery explosion of pages and paperbacks, my mother and father fell to the floor, and the needle of destiny tightened its stitch and shuttled on.
Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason, The Rule of Four

It never fails: walking through the laundry room in winter is like entering a desert mirage, air shivering with heat, bodies fantastic.
Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason, The Rule of Four

The delicious futility of impossible tasks is catnip to overachievers.
Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason, The Rule of Four

Now, suddenly, emotion.
Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason, The Rule of Four (Probably my favorite three word sentence ever.)

There's no worse thief than a bad book.
Italian saying

Ha! I got your hat! Take that, hatless! Now go back to the quad and resume your hacky sack tourney! I'm not gonna lay down for some frat boy bastard with his damn Teva sandals and his Skoal Bandits and his Abercrombie and Fitch long sleeved, open stitched, crew neck Henley smoking his sticky buds out of a soda can while watching his favorite downloaded Simpsons episodes every night! Yes, we all love Mr. Plow! Oh, you've got the song memorized, do you? SO DOES EVERYONE ELSE! That is exactly the kind of idiot you see at Taco Bell at one in the morning! The guy who just whiffed his way down the bar skank ladder! If he wants to throw hands, I’ll throw hands!
Stewie, Family Guy episode 408 - "8 Simple Rules for Buying My Teenage Daughter"

Ha! I got your hat! Take that, hatless! Now go back to the quad and resume your hacky sack tourney! I'm not gonna lay down for some frat boy bastard with his damn Teva sandals and his Skoal Bandits and his Abercrombie and Fitch long sleeved, open stitched, crew neck Henley smoking his sticky buds out of a soda can while watching his favorite downloaded Simpsons episodes every night! Yes, we all love Mr. Plow! Oh, you've got the song memorized, do you? SO DOES EVERYONE ELSE! That is exactly the kind of idiot you see at Taco Bell at one in the morning! The guy who just whiffed his way down the bar skank ladder! If he wants to throw hands, I’ll throw hands!
Stewie, Family Guy episode 408 - "8 Simple Rules for Buying My Teenage Daughter"

As the general population of our country gets progressively fatter and more bizarre looking, the women who show up at [book] readings maintain a smart, European glam-nerd aesthetic that heartens the pen wielder and binds him to his lonesome vocation.
Gary Shteyngart, author of Absurdistan

As the general population of our country gets progressively fatter and more bizarre looking, the women who show up at [book] readings maintain a smart, European glam-nerd aesthetic that heartens the pen wielder and binds him to his lonesome vocation.
Gary Shteyngart, author of Absurdistan

"Mr. Cobb, how are you doing?" I asked James Cobb, a lawyer in New Orleans, Louisiana.

"It depends on what you mean," Mr. Cobb answered. "If you mean how am I doing after losing my house and every fucking thing in it, and after being forced to live in a two-bedroom shithole with my wife and two kids and being told how lucky I am to get it, and after being fucked—and I mean absolutely fucked—by my insurance company and by the United States government (and by the way, just so you know, if anybody from New Orleans, Louisiana tells you that they're not getting fucked by their insurance company and by the United States government, they're fucking lying, all right?)...if you mean, how am I doing after all that is factored in: Well, I guess the answer is that I'm doing fine. Now, how can I help you?"
The author's first exchange of words with James Cobb. From "The Loved Ones" by Tom Junod (Esquire Magazine, September 2006, Volume 146, Issue 3)

"Mr. Cobb, how are you doing?" I asked James Cobb, a lawyer in New Orleans, Louisiana.

"It depends on what you mean," Mr. Cobb answered. "If you mean how am I doing after losing my house and every fucking thing in it, and after being forced to live in a two-bedroom shithole with my wife and two kids and being told how lucky I am to get it, and after being fucked—and I mean absolutely fucked—by my insurance company and by the United States government (and by the way, just so you know, if anybody from New Orleans, Louisiana tells you that they're not getting fucked by their insurance company and by the United States government, they're fucking lying, all right?)...if you mean, how am I doing after all that is factored in: Well, I guess the answer is that I'm doing fine. Now, how can I help you?"
The author's first exchange of words with James Cobb. From "The Loved Ones" by Tom Junod (Esquire Magazine, September 2006, Volume 146, Issue 3)

Girl #1: My tits feel weird.
Girl #2: What do you mean?
Girl #1: I did Party Tits at the share this weekend.
Girl #2: What??
Girl #1: Party Tits. You get saline injected into them, and they get really big. It wears off in a few days. The guys love it.
From Overheard in New York.

Girl #1: My tits feel weird.
Girl #2: What do you mean?
Girl #1: I did Party Tits at the share this weekend.
Girl #2: What??
Girl #1: Party Tits. You get saline injected into them, and they get really big. It wears off in a few days. The guys love it.
From Overheard in New York.

The time has come, Mr. President, to face the hard bruising truth. Donald Rumsfeld must go.
Next Monday's edition of the The Army Times, Navy Times, Air Force Times and Marine Corps Times

The time has come, Mr. President, to face the hard bruising truth. Donald Rumsfeld must go.
Next Monday's edition of the The Army Times, Navy Times, Air Force Times and Marine Corps Times

Best Buy DVD Section Employee #1: Where's Chinatown? Where am I supposed to find copies of Chinatown?
Best Buy DVD Section Employee #2: Martial Arts?
Overheard at Best Buy, right before I snapped.

Best Buy DVD Section Employee #1: Where's Chinatown? Where am I supposed to find copies of Chinatown?
Best Buy DVD Section Employee #2: Martial Arts?
Overheard at Best Buy, right before I snapped.

I toiled wholeheartedly in the vineyards because it was fun, fun, fun. Where else could a red-blooded American boy lie, kill cheat, steal, rape and pillage with the sanction and blessing of the All-Highest?
George White, CIA MK-ULTRA worker, who ran bordellos for the CIA in the 50s, in order to drug patrons with LSD and observe the effects.

I toiled wholeheartedly in the vineyards because it was fun, fun, fun. Where else could a red-blooded American boy lie, kill cheat, steal, rape and pillage with the sanction and blessing of the All-Highest?
George White, CIA MK-ULTRA worker, who ran bordellos for the CIA in the 50s, in order to drug patrons with LSD and observe the effects.

Guy: Oh, is that one of those...Treo things?

Girl: Yeah, it's awesome.

Guy: So, it's like a computer, just little?

Girl: Yeah, totally. You can go online and everything.

Guy: Really? Like how does it do that? Satellite?

Girl: Yeah, you don't have to be where there's wireless. I've been driving down the road checking my MySpace.

Guy: Cool.

Girl: Yadda yadda yadda touchscreen yadda little plastic pen yadda.

Guy: Yadda yadda yadda.

(Later...)

Girl: I'm so taking this to Great Britain instead of my laptop, so my laptop doesn't get stolen.

Guy: Oh, is that one of those...Treo things?

Girl: Yeah, it's awesome.

Guy: So, it's like a computer, just little?

Girl: Yeah, totally. You can go online and everything.

Guy: Really? Like how does it do that? Satellite?

Girl: Yeah, you don't have to be where there's wireless. I've been driving down the road checking my MySpace.

Guy: Cool.

Girl: Yadda yadda yadda touchscreen yadda little plastic pen yadda.

Guy: Yadda yadda yadda.

(Later...)

Girl: I'm so taking this to Great Britain instead of my laptop, so my laptop doesn't get stolen.

"pull my string! pull it!"

He thinks I'm his way into the music biz. Forget it, music's full.
Jeremy

Pure Schadenfreude in sitcom form, Peep Show features the two worst best friends in history. The magic of the show comes from the fact that everyone is so shallow and lame, that you want them to suffer. Gold.

My girlfriend stopped watching them with me. I can live with that.

Interesting side note: The stars of Peep Show are the UK "Mac vs PC" guys.

"pull my string! pull it!"

He thinks I'm his way into the music biz. Forget it, music's full.
Jeremy

Pure Schadenfreude in sitcom form, Peep Show features the two worst best friends in history. The magic of the show comes from the fact that everyone is so shallow and lame, that you want them to suffer. Gold.

My girlfriend stopped watching them with me. I can live with that.

Interesting side note: The stars of Peep Show are the UK "Mac vs PC" guys.

To the men, women, and children of the world who, by increasing their knowledge of the earth and its people, seek to understand each other's problems and through this understanding strive for a community of nations living in peace, the Encyclopaedia Britannica dedicates this volume.
The Dedication From Encyclopaedia Britannica, early 1940s

To the men, women, and children of the world who, by increasing their knowledge of the earth and its people, seek to understand each other's problems and through this understanding strive for a community of nations living in peace, the Encyclopaedia Britannica dedicates this volume.
The Dedication From Encyclopaedia Britannica, early 1940s

I was going to object to Ms... Mrs.? Ms.? Mrs.? Ms.? Wilson's...the title of her shop, Bride Be Magical, I mean, if we were running the shop, uh, I'd be tempted, based on personal experience as a divorcee, to change the title from Bride Be Magical to Conceited Self-Righteous Greedy Suburban Small-Minded Curtain-Twitching Snob...Be Magical.
Steve Coogan as Tommy Saxondale, Saxondale

I was going to object to Ms... Mrs.? Ms.? Mrs.? Ms.? Wilson's...the title of her shop, Bride Be Magical, I mean, if we were running the shop, uh, I'd be tempted, based on personal experience as a divorcee, to change the title from Bride Be Magical to Conceited Self-Righteous Greedy Suburban Small-Minded Curtain-Twitching Snob...Be Magical.
Steve Coogan as Tommy Saxondale, Saxondale

This Blog is about my home in outer-space. Yes, OUTER SPACE! It is a shame that this Blogsite is not inverted so that you can read the first Blog first as opposed to it being indexed last then this Blog would be much better. If you have read some/most/all of my Blogs here you will know that I truly designed/engineered many of the World's current most popular motorcars. If you have not read some/most/all of my Blogs here then you will have little or no idea about me/my life. Read some/most/all of them? I have a ten bedroomed home in outer space. Yes, ouside of the Earth's atmosphere. You do not believe me? In 1995 and in 1996 I received widespread high-profile media publicity around the World - on radio stations, on television stations, in national newspapers and in magazines - and this publicity included me having my own home in outer space. And included in this publicity was much about the fact that (in April 1958) my mother, a Ms. Carla Kavros, founded the Virgin brand (same logo as the person in the image claims he founded the brand of).
Carlos Kavros, crazy, crazy person.

More Crazy Here. I suggest starting with What Is A Muffin?

This Blog is about my home in outer-space. Yes, OUTER SPACE! It is a shame that this Blogsite is not inverted so that you can read the first Blog first as opposed to it being indexed last then this Blog would be much better. If you have read some/most/all of my Blogs here you will know that I truly designed/engineered many of the World's current most popular motorcars. If you have not read some/most/all of my Blogs here then you will have little or no idea about me/my life. Read some/most/all of them? I have a ten bedroomed home in outer space. Yes, ouside of the Earth's atmosphere. You do not believe me? In 1995 and in 1996 I received widespread high-profile media publicity around the World - on radio stations, on television stations, in national newspapers and in magazines - and this publicity included me having my own home in outer space. And included in this publicity was much about the fact that (in April 1958) my mother, a Ms. Carla Kavros, founded the Virgin brand (same logo as the person in the image claims he founded the brand of).
Carlos Kavros, crazy, crazy person.

More Crazy Here. I suggest starting with What Is A Muffin?