What Is An Imaginary Friend? Are There

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?

Love Is An Exploding Cigar We Willingly Smoke.

You Know That Great Car-stomach Feeling When You Fly Over A Hump? That Was My Whole Body.

Dear Anyone Who Finds This, Do Not Blame The Drugs.

It Is True That I Am A Person With Black Pockets Of Evil And Hatred In My Heart. There Are Underground Places Inside Of Me