"Please quit yelling that. It's not funny, it's not clever; it's stupid, it's repetitive, why the fuck would you continue to yell that? I'm serious. "Kevin Matthews"; okay, what does that mean, now? Now, what does it mean? I understand where it comes from, so do you. Now, what does it all mean? What is the culmination of yelling that? Jimmy Shorts: he's not here, he's not gonna be here. Now what? Now where are we? We're here at you interrupting me again, you fucking idiot. That's you. You see, we are here at the same point again where you, the fucking peon masses, can once again ruin anyone who tries to do anything because you don't know how to do it on your own! That's where we're fucking at! Once again the useless wastes of fucking flesh that has ruined everything good in this goddamn world! That's where we're at! HITLER HAD THE RIGHT IDEA! HE WAS JUST AN UNDERACHIEVER! KILL 'EM ALL, ADOLF! ALL OF 'EM! JEW, MEXICAN, AMERICAN, WHITE, KILL 'EM ALL! START OVER! THE EXPERIMENT DIDN'T WORK! Rain 40 days, please fucking rain to wash these turds off my fucking life! Wash these human wastes of flesh and bones off this planet! I pray to you, God, to kill these fucking people! Freebird. And in the beginning there was the word, Freebird. And Freebird would be yelled throughout the centuries. Freebird, the mantra of the moron."

“L.A. is a nightmare place, man. You'll always meet this one guy out in L.A, you always – this real smarmy guy. He always says this: "Yeah, I love calling back east January 1. 'What are all you doin'? Snowed in, huh? Bummer. Me? I'm out by the pool! Ha ha ha haaa!'" What a dick this guy is. It's why I used to love to call L.A. when I lived in New York: "What are y'all doin'? Talking to TV producers, huh? Bummer. Me? I'm reading a book! Yeah, we're thinkin back East. Yeah, we're evolving. Is that the Big One I hear in the background? Bye, you lizard scum! Bye!" Ha ha ha ha! It's gone, it's gone, it's gone. It's gone. All the shitty shows are gone, all the idiots screamin' in the fuckin' wind are dead, I love it. Leaving nothing but a cool, beautiful serenity called … Arizona Bay. Ha ha ha! That's right. When L.A. falls in the fuckin' ocean and is flushed away, all it will leave is Arizona Bay.”

“Courtroom filled with women trying to meet Ted Bundy, give him love letters and wedding proposals – this is what the article says. And I’m sorry to say the first thing I thought when I read that was, "And I'm not gettin’ laid.’ What am I doing wrong, you know? A natural question.”

“: “It amazes me how afraid they are of 1 person….basically a joke blower!”

“Why is marijuana against the law? It grows naturally on our planet, serves a thousand different functions, all of them positive. To make marijuana against the law is like saying that God made a mistake. Like on the seventh day God looked down, "There it is. My Creation, perfect and holy in all ways. Now I can rest. Oh my Me! I left fuckin' pot everywhere. I should never have smoked that joint on the third day. Hehe, that was the day I created the possum. Still gives me a chuckle. But if I leave pot everywhere, that's gonna give people the impression they're supposed to … use it. Now I have to create Republicans." " … and God wept", I believe is the next part of that story.”

“Why is pot against the law? It wouldn't be because anyone can grow it, and therefore you can't make a profit off it, would it?”

“I'm over there in England, you know, trying to get news of the riots, you know, and all these Brit people are trying to sympathize with me, "Oh Bill, crime is… horrible. Bill, if it’s any consolation, crime is horrible here too." "Shut up. This is Hobbiton and I'm Bilbo Hicks, OK? This is the land of fairies and elves. You do not have crime like we have crime. I appreciate you tryin’ to be, you know, diplomatic but…" You gotta see English crime, if only we had crime like this, you know? It's hilarious. You don't know if you're reading the front page or the comic section over there. I swear to God. I read an article, front page of the paper one day in England: "Yesterday some hooligans knocked over a dustbin in Shaftesbury." "Whoo-oo!" "The hooligans are loose, the hooligans are loose. What if they become ruffians? I would hate to be a dustbin in Shaftesbury tonight. No one knows what it's like to be a dustbin … in Shaftesbury … with hooligans.”