Though I do not like to GET it both ways, I often like to HAVE it both ways, Herr Pendleton-Machine, so I'll probably go with something where it SEEMS like I'm having a momentarily lapse of badassery, but in reality it will be revealed that I was badass all along. I think that will satisfy the masses, hungry for a…

No I think the next album will be his last. Or the one after that. Or maybe the one after that. Possibly the fourth or fifth one after this one. It's anyone's game, really.

They probably have. What else is there to do in Boise?

I routinely insult the whole of Australia to anyone who will listen.

If I write my autobiography, will you guys all read it?

More drugs for me?

He fuckin' writes the songs that make the WHOLE WORLD CRY, Fritzy-poo. So either he's lying, or you are.

I should think it means one of three things (almost everything means one of three things; the only real trick is figuring out what those three things are):

I was born triangular. It was a difficult birth, so I'm told.

Monday I ate six dozen oysters and a mincemeat pie the size of a snowtire.

Honestly, until they do that, every movie set in Antarctica will just have to compare unfavorably to The Thing.

…which sounds much more threatening when put to the tune of Wagner's "Flight of the Bumblebees":

My plans were all in place; I would consume the proper herbs and mystical roots, say the appropriate phrases, and watch as the demon Kralxysth was reborn in my innards, bursting forth to begin his 9,000 year rule on this plane. I would rule as his host, his surrogate body on Earth, with riches beyond compare,…

Plus, honestly, being a bastard isn't exactly hard work. But being KING of bastards, well, that's a bukkake film of another color.

Go over to the Vampire Diaries thread and see all the other things I do! I'm not just busy, I'm BIZZAY-AY-AY!

Nope. They leave the dirty work to me.

Yeah, holy shit on a pencil this sounds like a bad bad idea.

Finally, after a full 14,270 straight days of shitting a brick every day, I was prepared to build my dream house. But then my parents died.

I sat pensively on my bleacher seat courtside at the women's collegiate volleyball playoffs, remembering the time when I'd promised myself that I'd have group sex with no less than six women at one time, pleasuring them all simultaneously while prudently wearing scuba gear to prevent death by woman-flesh asphyxiation,…

I was just about to give birth to a veritable Noah's ark of different types of animals from my newly grown external womb, but then my parents died.