I'm Not For Everyone. I'm Barely For

God Doesn't Seem To Talk To People Like He Used To. Who's He Talking To Now? I Don't Know. Then I'm Walking Down The Street In Manhattan One Day, And I Realize Maybe It's Those Guys You See Walking Down The Street Talking To Themselves. You Know, Those Guys That Are Like, 'i Can't! No, I Can't!' Maybe The Other Side Of That Conversation Is God Going, 'you're The New Leader.' 'no I Can't!' They're Not Crazy - They're Reluctant Prophets.

I Was Married Once Before, And I Stopped.

When I Was A Young Comic In New York And I Wasn't Getting Any Work, I Was Wandering Around The Lower East Side With My Notebook. I Would Stop At The Guitar Place On St. Mark's And Talk To That Dude For A While, Then I'd Go To The Bookstore And Talk To That Dude For A Little While. I Had A Guy Over At The Record Store, And I'd Talk To Him For A While. It Kept Me Connected To Life.

I'm Just Saying, 'hey, Throw Me A Bone. How About A Smile, Cute T-shirt? Look At Me.' Nothing - Unless It's A Turn To Their Friends To Go, 'hey, Why Is That Weird Guy Looking At Us?'

There's A Fine Line Between Cultural Criticism And Bitterness.