I do what I do best, I take scores. You do what you do best, try to stop guys like me.
I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don't know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.
Cause she's got a great ass... and you got your head all the way up it! Ferocious, aren't I? When I think of asses, a woman's ass, something comes out of me.
I believe in taking care of myself and a balanced diet and rigorous exercise routine. In the morning if my face is a little puffy I'll put on an ice pack while doing stomach crunches. I can do 1000 now.
Look at that subtle off-white coloring. The tasteful thickness of it. Oh my God, it even has a watermark!
My life's a disaster zone. I got a stepdaughter so fucked up because her real father's this large-type asshole. I got a wife, we're passing each other on the down-slope of a marriage - my third - because I spend all my time chasing guys like you around the block. That's my life.
He knew the risks, he didn't have to be there. It rains... you get wet.
A guy told me one time, "Don't let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner." Now, if you're on me and you gotta move when I move, how do you expect to keep a... a marriage?
I don't want to get you drunk, but, ah, that's a very fine Chardonnay you're not drinking.