I had a boyfriend who told me I’d never succeed, never be nominated for a Grammy, never have a hit song, and that he hoped I’d fail. I said to him, ‘Someday, when we’re not together, you won’t be able to order a cup of coffee at the fucking deli without hearing or seeing me.
You have to watch your language. People will think you have no fucking class
You want sensitive and understanding, stick with the therapist.You want great, headbanging sex, get off the fucking phone and come with me.
You know the reason The Beatles made it so big?...'I Wanna Hold Your Hand.' First single. Fucking brilliant. Perhaps the most fucking brilliant song ever written. Because they nailed it. That's what everyone wants. Not 24/7 hot wet sex. Not a marriage that lasts a hundred years. Not a Porsche...or a million-dollar crib. No. They wanna hold your hand. They have such a feeling that they can't hide. Every single successful song of the past fifty years can be traced back to 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand.' And every single successful love story has those unbearable and unbearably exciting moments of hand-holding.
And Mega has a crush on Chester." "I do not!" "Do too, Mega." "He's like, old!" "How old, Christian says." "Like at least thirty or something." Lor laughs. " Fucking ancient, ain't it, kid?" "Dude," I agree. I like Lor.
NO. No no no. I don't want to screw you. I just love you. When did who you want to screw become the whole game? Since when is the person you want to screw the only person you get to love? It's so stupid, Tiny! I mean, Jesus, who even gives a fuck about sex?! People act like it's the most important thing humans do, but come on. How can our sentient fucking lives revolve around something slugs can do. I mean, who you want to screw and whether you screw them? Those are important questions, I guess. But they're not that important. You know what's important? Who would you die for? Who do you wake up at five forty-five in the morning for even though you don't even know why he needs you? Whose drunken nose would you pick?!
Go back to bed, America. Your government has figured out how it all transpired. Go back to bed, America. Your government is in control again. Here. Here's American Gladiators. Watch this, shut up. Go back to bed, America. Here is American Gladiators. Here is 56 channels of it! Watch these pituitary retards bang their fucking skulls together and congratulate you on living in the land of freedom. Here you go, America! You are free to do what we tell you! You are free to do what we tell you!
I can do pain. That’s the easy part of life. It’s everything else, happiness, laughter, love, that’s fucking complicated.
What the hell is that?" I laughed. "It's my fox hat." "Your fox hat?" "Yeah, Pudge. My fox hat." "Why are you wearing your fox hat?" I asked. "Because no one can catch the motherfucking fox.
The secret to kicking ass in dumbshit Hollywood... Every time you meet someone, make a fucking impression. Make them think you're the hottest shit in the world. Make them think they're gonna lose their job if they don't give you one. Look 'em in the eye, and never look away. Be confident and calm, be fucking bold. That sounds more like the secret to kicking ass in life. It is, but I was gonna wait and tell you that some other time.