I Am Jack's Raging Bile Duct

The first step to eternal life is you have to die.

You do the little job you're trained to do. Pull a lever....Push a button...You don't understand any of it, and then you just die.

I've met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas handing on the wall behind him, and God asks me, "Why?"
Why did I cause so much pain?
Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness?
Can't I see how we're all manifestations of love?
I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong.
We are not special.
We are not crap or trash, either.
We just are.
We just are, and what happens just happens.
And God says, "No, that's not right."
Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can't teach God anything.

You are not a beautiful, unique snowflake... This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.

Reality Means You Live Until You Die. The Real Truth Is Nobody Wants Reality.

The first time you meet that someone special, you can count on them one day being dead and in the ground.

A guy's calling to say he's failing Algebra II.
Just as a point of practice I say, Kill yourself.
A woman calls and says her kids won't behave.
Without missing a beat, I tell her, Kill yourself.
A man calls to say his car won't start.
Kill yourself.
A woman calls to ask what time the late movie stars.
Kill yourself.
She asks, "Isn't this 555-1327? Is this the Moorehouse Cineplex?"
I say, Kill yourself. Kill yourself. Kill yourself.
A girl calls and asks, "Does it hurt very much to die?"
Well sweetheart, I tell her, yes, but it hurts a lot more to keep living.
The same as if a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, you realize, if no one had been there to witness the agony of Christ, would we be saved?

And if Christ had died from a barbituate overdose, alone on the bathroom floor, would He be in heaven?"

Here are condoms lined with a topical anesthetic for prolonged action. What a paradox. You don't feel a thing, but you can fuçk for hours. This really seems to miss the point. I want my whole life to be lined with a topical anesthetic.

When did the future switch from being a promise to a threat?

Only when we eat up this planet will God give us another. We'll be remembered more for what we destroy than what we create.

When we don't know who to hate, we hate ourselves.

No doubt, this is the kind of stress the constantly mutating AIDS virus must feel.

The only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open.

Your parents, they give you your life but then they try to give you their life.

I figure, the bigger the mistake looks, the better chance I'll have to break out and have a real life.

Day and night, the future keeps coming at you.

No matter how much you think you love somebody, you'll step back when the pool of their blood edges up too close.

All around us, erosion and insects are just chewing up the world, never mind people and pollution. Everything biodegrades with or without you pushing.

Game shows are designed to make us feel better about the random, useless facts that are all we have left of our education.

Your birth is a mistake you'll spend your whole life trying to correct.

My point being, is that you cant escape the world, and you’re not responsible for how you look, if you look beauticious or butt ugly. You’re not responsible for how you feel or what you say or how you act or anything you do. Its all out of your hands.
The same way a compact disk isn’t responsible for what’s recorded on it, that’s how we are. You’re about as free to act as a programmed computer. You’re about as one of a kind as a dollar bill.
There isn’t any real you in you. even your physical body, all your cells will be replaced within eight years.
Skin, bones, blood and organs transplant from person to person. Even what’s inside you already, the colonies of microbes and bugs that eat your food for you, without them you'd die. Nothing of you is all-the-way yours. all of you is inherited.
Relax. Whatever your thinking, a million other folks are thinking. Whatever you do, they’re doing, and none of you is responsible. All of you is a cooperative effort.

Whats burning down is a re-creation of a period revival house patterned after a copy of a copy of copy of a mock tudor big manor house. Its a hundred generations removed from anything original, but the truth is arent we all?

If we cant find something to fight for, well settle for something to fight against.

She said when a boy and a girl dog copulate, the head of the boy's penis swells and the vaginal muscles of the girl constrict. Even after sex, both dogs remain locked together, helpless and miserable for a brief period of time. The Mommy said this same scenario described most marriages.

For sure, even the worst blow job is better than, say, sniffing the best rose... watching the greatest sunset. Hearing children laugh.
I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a hot-gushing, butt-cramping, gut-hosing orgasm.
Painting a picture, composing an opera, that's just something you do until you find the next willing piece of ass.

I spent my life attacking everything because I was too afraid to risk creating anything.

Nothing is EVER as good as you imagine.