I had a Ford F-250. It was a big ol' farm truck, but it wasn't a rig. That's about the biggest I've ever driven. That's what I drove back and forth to high school. I was a poor guy, and it was a truck that my uncle owned and let me drive because I had no money.
There were definitely bands and musicians I liked that drove my mother insane. I probably liked them all the more for it! Bjork drove my mom nuts. What I listened to was actually pretty mom-friendly for the most part. I wasn't very rebellious.
I actually quit the business. I went and drove a truck for a year and a half.
On my job I end up jumping out of planes. Last week I got in an 18-wheeler and drove down a runway onto a skid track. The week before that they put me in a car and sunk me to the bottom of a lake to see if I could escape without an oxygen tank.
My neighbor is now an 18-wheeler who comes by here 1,000 times a day.
I feel like we've already seen the burger truck, we've seen the lobster-roll truck. There's even healthy-food trucks now. But a big-thick-pizza truck? Come on, man. That'd be amazing.
I am kind of the guy you'd expect to be driving an 18-wheeler through town.
Fighting George Foreman is like being in the street with an 18-wheeler coming at you.
Every scandal has its road kill: the pedestrians who stumble into the headlights of the oncoming 18-wheeler.
Nobody thought I'd be a great coach. I'm the kind of guy you'd expect to be driving an 18-wheeler through town.
[My father] was always upset that my mother didn't want to live in New York. Because he said he wanted to live in a hotel and not have to mow the lawn and all that. In other words, he never liked sports clothes, he always liked to be dressed up formally, 24/7. And he drove big cars and, you know, just loved to act the banker.
Me and my step-dad shared a $500 Chevy Celebrity, a 1983 Dodge Ram truck, and an old Ford Ranger truck - it was a piece of junk. I hated that thing. It fell apart. It didn't always go in reverse. So I drove in a circle or I would just get somebody to sit in the thing and I would push it backward.
And if that is the Foremast, what do you think that sail might be called, Mr. Wheeler?" "The Foresail?" "Very good, Mr. Wheeler, and the next one up would be called..." ..."The Next Sail, Sir?" "Alas, no, Mr. Wheeler.
I love what I do, so it's not tiring. If I worked at a computer or drove a truck, I'd be dead in a week.
My best friend growing up was a truck driver, and it was big in truck stops. He'd have his 'Deadwood' DVDs, and they'd watch them in the lounge.
I've really been trying to go back to when I was 18 and rediscover the things that drove me, and my passions. How do I get back to being that strong? Because I feel like as I get older, I'm not as fearless as I was when I was 18.