Writer's Block Is A Myth. I Never

You Know What I Hate? Indian Givers... No, I Take That Back.

I've Always Suffered From A Complete Inability To Sense Who's Important.

He Taught Me Never To Smile, Which Helps Me When I Visit Disaster Sites.

I Think Of My Body As A Temple. Or At Least A Relatively Well-managed Presbyterian Youth Center.

Sometimes My Mother Goes Through My Socks And Underwear. I Wouldn't Mind, But It Tickles So Much!