Nothing Was Solved When The Fight Was

Proof That No Investment Is Yours Forever.

I Don't Care What They Do With My Book So Long As The Flippin Check Clears.

I Don't Want To Die Without Any Scars.

What I Mean Is Sometimes, For An Artist, Chronic Pain Can Be A Gift.

For Thousands Of Years, Human Beings Had Screwed Up And Trashed And Crapped On This Planet, And Now History Expected Me To Clean Up After Everyone. I Have To Wash Out And Flatten My Soup Cans. And Account For Every Drop Of Used Motor Oil. And I Have To Foot The Bill For Nuclear Waste And Buried Gasoline Tanks And Landfilled Toxic Sludge Dumped A Generation Before I Was Born.