You know me, I don’t like formalities. Let’s get right to what’s on my mind this minute.

Do you remember in grade school, those cafeteria lunches where they used to hand out a rectangle of pizza? I never got mine.

The best thing you can do in this world is to make your enemy a friend. If you can’t do that, kill his pets while he sleeps. Hopefully he’ll get the message.

I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night. Boy, that was a weird dream.

Why is that some remote controls you have to point right at the TV, and others you can point them anywhere and they work. I don’t know the specifications of remote control airwaves ownership, but they should make all remote controls like that.

The world’s greatest dancer is that Riverdance guy, no question. Kill him, who’s left? Really?

You know, if I were to suddenly die tomorrow, I doubt any of my friends would be surprised.

If you got the chance to pick your own nickname, what would it be? Wait—don’t jump the gun too soon. Remember, this will have to last you forever. Unless you change it.

I wonder why they didn’t decide to call it Kraft Cheese & Macaroni. Seriously, this keeps me up at night. I’m not sleeping well.

I’m going to buy a houseboat. Then I’ll get boat owner’s insurance and homeowner’s insurance. Then, God forbid, I get torpedoed by a lost German sub still fighting the war, I can get paid twice.

You know what I really like? Loose women.

If I could have any band write me a theme song and play it for me everywhere I go, I would choose the Ventures. You know, Hawaii 5-O. Who’s better than that, you tell me?

They say loose lips sink ships, but poor hull maintenance does it just as well.

Technically, if you take some video of your nephew falling off a slide, aren’t you an independent filmmaker? I believe so, but try telling that to those assholes at Sundance.

I wonder when we’re going to get that technology that verifies your identity by lasering your retina, for security purposes. A lot of people have been making long-distance calls on my line lately.

I had lunch at Great Expectations the other day. It wasn’t so good.

As an artist, would it personally offend you if your entire catalogue of albums was remastered? It either implies they weren’t mastered correctly to begin with or they somehow got reckless over the years and needed to be reigned in. Could you go back and put a harmonica on every track, would that qualify as remastering? Or is that a remix?

Hoot. That’s what my nickname would be.

Sometimes I think I’m still paying for the sins of man in the Garden. You know the Garden, that Chinese place on Fifteenth Street. I was smoking in the non-smoking section and got banned.

That’s all for this presentation. I’m off to hunt cashews in the wild. I wish you the best of luck, as long as it’s not mine.