Everything Is A Self-portrait. Everything Is A

Nothing Shows You The Straight Line From Here To Death Like A List.

People Had Been Working For So Many Years To Make The World A Safe, Organized Place. Nobody Realized How Boring It Would Become. With The Whole World Property-lined And Speed-limited And Zoned And Taxed And Regulated, With Everyone Tested And Registered And Adressed And Recorded. Nobody Had Left Much Room For Adventure, Except Maybe The Kind You Could Buy. [...] The Laws That Keep Us Safe, These Same Laws Condemn Us To Boredom.

I Spend Most Of My Life Just Listening To People.

I Know That When A Supersexy Older Girl With Hips And Breasts And Nice Hair Wants To Take Off Your Glasses And To Paint You A Smoky Eye She's Merely Trying To Enroll You In A Beauty Contest She's Already Won. It's A Kind Of Slummy, Condescending Gesture, Like When Rich People Ask Poor People Where They Summer. To Me, This Smacks Of A Blatant, Insensitive "let Them Eat Cake" Type Of Chauvinism.

The Only Funny Part About Colonial Dunsboro Is Maybe It's Too Authentic, But For All The Wrong Reasons. This Whole Crowd Of Losers And Nutcases Who Hide Out Here Because They Can't Make It In The Real World, In Real Jobs — Isn't This Why We Left England In The First Place? To Establish Our Own Alternate Reality. Weren't The Pilgrims Pretty Much The Crackpots Of Their Time? For Sure, Instead Of Just Wanting To Believe Something Different About God's Love, The Losers I Work With Want To Find Salvation Through Compulsive Behaviors.