I'm a professional hanger outer. I'm a super liability, too. I joke around and I'm like a hyper-active child.
There has to be irony, both in design and in the objects. I see around me a professional disease of taking everything too seriously. One of my secrets is to joke all the time
I don't like walking around with people thinking I'm doing uncool s--, because there's nothing I'm doing that's uncool. It's all innovative. You just might not understand it yet. But it's cool. Family is super cool. Going home to one girl every night is super cool. Just going home and getting on the floor and playing with your child is super cool. Not wearing a red leather jacket, and just looking like a dad and s--, is like super cool. Having someone that I can call Mom again. That s-- is super cool.
It's funny; recently I've started to notice people's impersonations of me, and it's basically like a hyperactive child.
On a hanger, no dress is sexy. It's just fabric on a hanger.
I'm a person who cannot be doing nothing. I have a deficit. In Mexico, we say 'hiperactivo' - hyperactive. I am hyperactive!
The outer ring of Christianity is a rigid guard of ethical abnegations and professional priests; but inside that inhuman guard you will find the old human life dancing like children and drinking wine like men; for Christianity is the only frame for pagan freedom. But in the modern philosophy the case is opposite; it is its outer ring that is obviously artistic and emancipated; its despair is within.
The U.K. and Europe in general seem to be a lot more patient. The U.S. are expecting 'joke joke joke joke joke joke joke.' They don't actually sit and listen to you.
I've been quite hyperactive since I was a child.
Skinny jeans and an extra big t-shirt. Ugh, I cannot stand that. It looks like an idiot: it's just proportionately wrong. And the super, super, super, super, super, super, super skinny jeans. I don't think you can get anything done when you're wearing clothes that tight.
Somebody bought me a Snuggie as a joke gift. Haha, the joke's on you, I enjoy it. I toss and turn at night, finally a blanket that's like, 'I'm going to keep you warm.' It's like having a small child with polio keep you in a full nelson - the perfect pressure.
When I'm writing columns, it's - all I'm thinking about is jokes, joke, joke, joke, setup, punch line, joke, joke, joke. And I really don't care where it goes.
Who is a professional? A professional is someone who has a combination of competence, confidence and belief. A water diviner is a professional. A traditional midwife is a professional. A traditional bone setter is a professional. These are professionals all over the world. You find them in any inaccessible village around the world.
What do you suppose is the use of a child without any meaning? Even a joke should have some meaning-- and a child's more imporant than a joke, I hope. You couldn't deny that, even if you tried with both hands.
Trying to conceal the fact that I was a gay, effeminate, hyperactive, adopted child with a serious lisp in southern Louisiana would have been like trying to hide Dolly Parton in a string bikini!
I joke that every time I'm in the playoffs, it feels like I'm in the Super Bowl.