You don't give out trophies for losing. Trophies for sucking. That's a communist idea. You don't get a trophy for losing. You get a piece of pizza and you shut up. Trophies for losing? What the hell happened to us?
Satan called - he's changed the sheets, fluffed the pillows and laid out the complimentary chocolate. Hell is ready for John Edwards.
Texas is a hell hole, man. Dirt, cactus, lizards, dirt, cactus, the Bush family.
Blood doesn't make you family. Hell, an only child can bleed. It's the sharing of pain that makes you family. 'Cause, you can't really love a brother or sister until you know that they're as scarred and broken as you are. And, hey, if you grow up with a father like mine and you aren't at least a little scarred and broken, well then, that's not your father. You were spawned by an entirely different guy.
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