"When you turned it on, it said its name: "Droid." I keep it here in my pocket. I wish it would say "Groin", then I'd always know where it is. I don't think it's really smart to keep a phone this large and a screen that big right next to your nutsack. I believe my sperm are dying. I hear them weeping every morning. "Son of a bitch, Lou! It's hot as hell down here! Goddammit, it's like the sun is out twenty-four hours a day! Get us some water! I don't think we're gonna make it to the top of the hill again!"

“The amazing thing is there are people who've never left this country who talk about the fact that we're the greatest country on Earth. How fucking dumb is that?! Cuz you don't know, if you haven't left here you don't know. There are countries that may be giving shit away every day! Canada's one of those countries. You know what they give away? HEALTH INSURANCE!”

“And then there are fossils. Whenever anybody tries to tell me that they believe it took place in seven days, I reach for a fossil and go "Fossil!" And if they keep talking, I throw it just over their head.”

“There are things about the Jewish religion that I carry with me to this day. Chief among them is Yom Kippur, or the Day of Atonement, as it's so happily called. It had a profound effect on my innocent young mind. The service opens with the organ playing "Kol Nidre," one of the spookiest pieces of music ever written. You hear it and literally are surprised bats and shit aren't flying around.”

“You see what I felt they should have done for our first public works project is build a giant wall across the entire border of Canada...because THAT'S where the cold air comes from!”

“There are people who believe that dinosaurs and men lived together, that they roamed the Earth at the same time. There are museums that children go to, in which they build dioramas to show them this. And what this is, purely and simply, is a clinical psychotic reaction. They are crazy. They are stone. Cold. Fuck. Nuts. I can't be kind about this, because these people are watching The Flinstones as if it were a documentary.”

“When they played, it wasn't music. It was the sound of chaos. I knew it was the sound of chaos because you could hear pigs being slaughtered. Women were weeping and men were gnashing their teeth, and there were sounds so horrible that I cannot repeat them to you, or you would flee from this room in horror!”