We Didn't Have Packed Lunches At My

I'm Trying To Sign Up And Do Movies That I'll Be Proud Of It. That's Kind Of How I Think About It.

I Walked Out The Wrong Car Door And Started Walking Into The Crowd, An Interviewer Said, 'give Your Best Horror Scream,' And Stan Did This Great Scream, And I Was Too Much Of A Wimp To Do One. It Was Pathetic!

I Don't Know What's Wrong With Me, My Brain Doesn't Work Anymore. I Haven't Any Memory. I Can't Write. All I Can Do Is Sign My Name. I Tried To Write The Other Day-it Looked Like I Was Writing In Braille.

The Only Way To Establish Any Kind Of Mystique, Is To Completely Shut Up And Never Talk To Anyone. And I'm Contractually Obligated Not To Shut Up.

I Got Expelled From My School When I Was 12; I Was Quite Bad!