"Don't blame me. I woke up there in April of 1972 after an overdose. It was the infamous nut house on Bull Street in Columbia, South Carolina which has since closed down. In retrospect, I miss the powered eggs and powdered milk for breakfast. I also long for the occasional beating by the constantly pissed off orderlies. I got into a fist fight with one of them and was thrown into a padded cell. I pretended to have a seizure while I was lying there and several orderlies came running in to check on me. One of the really nasty ones was leaning over me when I looked up and screamed 'SURPRISE!' I then delivered a left cross to his jaw and knocked him on his startled ass. The other orderlies in the room proceeded to beat the crap out of me. Then they put me in a straight jacket and left me in the padded room for a really long time. True story that. Ahh...the good old days."

“Eat raw eggs. Sperm. Datura. And you can achieve what I have full natty. If you have what it takes”

"This is what the tandem cycle of random violence breeds! A vengeful black hit-sludge with a grudge hath brought the reaper you've sown in the goo of your guilt, as the créme-de-karma is roosting home to harm ya. It always ends up boning the poor."

"They needed a stealth soldier, so I put my hands on the hibachi hot plate at Benihana and burned my ♥♥♥♥♥♥' fingerprints off. They will not find me."

"He's running like he has glass in his shoes and he ♥♥♥♥ himself."