You moon the wrong person at an office party and suddenly you're not 'professional' any more.

It's a weird sensation to be mad and learning at the same time.

You know, I remember Career Day in high school. I remember plumbers and lawyers... I don't remember a booth where you could sign up to learn how to shoot chickens out of a cannon at the windshield of an airplane, 'cause there would have been a line at my school to do that!

The designated driver program, it's not a desirable job. But if you ever get sucked into doing it, drop them off at the wrong house.

Like the Earth, the Web is a less appealing place than it used to be. If I want attitude and arguing and meanness and profanity and wrong information screamed at me as gospel, I'll get in a time machine and spend Christmas with my family in 1977.

I always thought that if I wanted to do a family, I wanted to do it big. I wanted there to be chaos in the house.

There's really no point in having children if you're not going to be home enough to father them.

I had dropped out of school and was a runaway, so I didn't have family to fall back on if I didn't work. I didn't have a lot of other options of making money other than modeling.