all I want is to get laid for the last time. I have pornographic movies in my apartment, and lubricants, and amyl nitrite...
We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars.
Hitting bottom isn't a weekend retreat. It's not a goddamn seminar. Stop trying to control everything and just let go! LET GO!
Tinsel still clinging to it. Like a sex crime victim. Underwear inside out. Bound with electrical tape.
This was a support group for men with testicular cancer. The big moosie slobbering all over me... that was Bob.
The teenager's braces are still wrapped around the backseat ashtray. Might make a good anti-smoking ad.
This kid, Ricky--supply clerk -- couldn't remember whether you ordered pens with blue ink or black ink ...
I had it all. I had a stereo that was very decent, a wardrobe that was getting very respectable. I was close to being complete.
What concerns me are celebrity magazines, television with 500 channels, some guy's name on my underwear.
You have to know the answer to this question! If you died right now, how would you feel about your life?
