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I don't like to brag, but I can suck the engine block through the tailpipe of a '58 Chevy.
How come if God talks to Joseph Smith, he's a prophet, but if God talks to me I'm schizophrenic?
Maybe you could try and reach down in your Bible geek soul and be cool for just two seconds?
Dammit, what's wrong with you? You want revelations engraved in gold and angels trumpeting down from heaven. But what if this is it instead? Me telling you I love you, right here, in snow? I think that's pretty miraculous.
I mean, LA is a city where everyone dances with one eye on the door, like we're all waiting for something better to walk in. But would we ever recognise it if we did? It might be nice to stop circling. it might be nice to stop equating sex with a handshake. It might be nice to have it mean something.
Could be worse, could be raining. Oh yeah: it IS raining.
Well, apparently poor Pam Anderson has had her breast implants taken out and put back in so many times that her entire chest is collapsing. Ohh, they have bikini pictures. They're horrible!
Shut up.
No, they are, seriously, they're down to her knees.
When I first came to Los Angeles, it looked like just this mass of dots, all jumbled and disconnected. ...It was pretty disorienting.
Look at yourself. You're so pretty and colorful on the outside, but inside you're nothing but fluff. You're like a walking, talking marshmallow Peep!
I can't believe what I was about to do, when there is nothing, Christian, nothing about you that is not skin-deep.
When I was a little kid, I use to put my face right up to them, you know, um, and I was just amazed because it was just this mass of dots, I think life is like that sometimes. But I like to think that, from God's perspective, life, everything - even this... it makes sense. It's not just dots. And instead we're all connected, and it's beautiful and it's funny and it's good. From this close we, we can't expect it to make sense, right now.
We're colours and whites - we don't mix.
Well, I'm already going to Hell for kissing you, so I may as well take the scenic route.
Sometimes it all still feels like a mass of dots. But more and more these days, I feel like we're all connected. And it's beautiful... and funny... and good.
Oh, honey, you do not want to let them get into your psyche. You start off listening to Amy Grant, but then, before you know, it's 3am and you got your Visa card and you're giving it to that scary bitch on TV with the lavender hair.
I dated this guy once, actor, cute, Southern, came from this real religious family. Well, his parents found out he was gay and can you say drama? They sent him to one of those Christian change ministries.
Wow, did he change?
Did he? Miss Thang used to be a top. I'm serious. He's still gayer than a box of birds.
I dated this Mormon guy once, his family put him through shock therapy. We'd have sex, he was a wild man. Then he'd want to throw himself out the window.
So? You live on the first floor.
Yes, but it's hell on my azaleas.
What, you would have sex to help your career?
Honey, I've blown a guy just to get him out of my apartment. Sex for my career would be noble.
Who called up Deliver-a-fag?
Christ, who pissed in your cheerios?
They set this thing up to be difficult, ok? We can't listen to music, we can't watch movies, we're never supposed to be alone. I mean, what, we're ninteen, twenty years old and we're not even allowed to beat off. Some nights I wake up, and I find teeth marks on my headboard. Look, I put my time in here, so that I can go home, so that I can marry Jennifer, so that I can finally nail her. See? It's amazing what we'll do for sex.
I used to be you. Yeah, I had a career, friends, looks, the whole package. But now I'm just a skeletal reminder that we may only be in the eye of the hurricane.
Christ, my butt has wasted away to nothing. It's too bad, cos I used to have a killer ass. I did. I've got pictures of it around here somewhere.
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