“Well, once I fried tofu and put Sriracha on it. After that I was so depressed I swore off preparing food for myself altogether.”

We’re down in Mexico. It’s for a bachelor party, so we go into a Mexican strip club.

You grow up real quick, a half-Mexican in a sailor’s suit, because I’d be riding the streetcar to school everyday.

Near my house in Los Angeles is a waterfall. I love to take the wife and kids, but it’s also near a sketchy neighborhood. So there’s a lot of gang members that hang out at the waterfall. It’s like somebody took an Ansel Adams photo and then put a Cypress Hill video inside it.

If you want to be hip to the lingo, they’re not using the word dong up in the States.

Don’t bring your sand toys to the park. That’s another bad move. Because I go to the park, and I’m on the Vicodin and a little weed too – let’s face it – and I go in there, and my wife’s like.

I’m always alone. Sad face emoticon.

Stop throwing us all together like some sort of Puerto Ricaminican Tex-Mex buffet.

I go back with this woman down a murky hallway, and then without missing a beat – these ladies are all business – she goes.

Im so sick of people treating Latinos like some homogenous group that all feel the same way about everything.

The horrible truth is that I am lazy and I am going to write and do bits that just hand themselves to me.

I bullshit on the phone all day with a variety of people discussing various projects, and occasionally write jokes.

Go ahead, take out your dong.’ ‘I’m not taking out my dong. And by the way, who uses the word dong?

Bring the sand toys! Bring the sand toys!’ And I know what happens every single time.

I become sand toy repo man from the eight little kids that run off in nine different directions with my sand toys.

Minding my own business, humming out a ‘Frere Jacques’ – and I realized that in any other town, this might be considered cute. But you know what it is in San Francisco? Sexy.

My primary responsibility is to be funny.

There is hardly any contact more depressing to a young ardent creature than that of a mind in which years full of knowledge seem to have issued in a blank absence of interest or sympathy.

The parity of women’s health. It’s very depressing to think that you win these rights, but then you have to win them again, and again, and again, and fight the same battles over and over.

One of the most depressing features of the ethical side of the matter is that instead of such methods arousing contempt they are more or less openly admired. And this is logical.

I’ve been anxious but not depressed. I’m an incorrigible optimist.

Everyone gets depressed. But what do you do? You just go through it.

Writing is reporting what we saw after the vision has left us. It is catching the fish which the tide has left far up on our shores in the low and depressed places.

Well, my grandfather was a minister and sort of Protestant, and this was rather depressing to me.

I’d been depressed before, of course. But I’m talking about really depressed. Not just feeling a bit down or sad, a depression that has something to do with biorhythms. I’m talking about the kind of depressed that floats in upon you like a fog.