Dear Anyone Who Finds This, Do Not

I Think Of Images As An Immune System And A Transit System.

Going On Letterman Is Like Going Off The High Dive. It's Exhilarating, But After A While It Wasn't The Kind Of Thrill I Enjoyed.

I Do Dumb Stuff, Like Playing My Favorite Dumb Barry White Song And Lip-synching Into The Mirror So It Looks Like His Voice Is Coming Out Of My Mouth.

The Minute You Understand Racism, You're Responsible For Being Racist. It's Like Eating From The Tree Of Knowledge.

I've Gotten A Lot Of Livid Letters About The Awfulness Of My Work. I've Never Known What To Make Of It. Why Do People Bother To Write If They Hate What I Do?