In Contrast To How My

I Think That Any Time A Person Comes Face-to-face With Their Own Mortality - Close Enough To Death That They Can Smell Its Breath - They Have A Choice: 1) Fall To Pieces; 2) Reassemble Yourself And Keep Walking.

One Of The Greatest Pleasures I Get From My Measly Professional Career Is Confusing People. "wait - He Beats Women And Seems Like A Nazi, But He Has Impeccable Grammar And Keen Reasoning Skills And Sings Country Music And Can, From Time To Time, Say Or Do Something Really Funny?" It Absolutely Doesn't Compute For Them. I Enjoy That Immensely.

The Criticism That Has Most Consistently Bothered Me Is The Allegation That I'm A Schlockmeister Whose Only Objective Is To Shock People.

The Idea That The Reader Is Important Enough To Me That I'd Tailor My Words To Either Please Or Offend Them Always Seems Amusingly Alien To Me.

I Tend Not To Hang With 'the Crowd' Because I Believe That At Any Given Moment In History, The Crowd Is Only Standing Somewhere Because Some Lone, Brave Nutjob Broke Down The Walls For Them First.