I guess it would be nice to hear that I’m funny for a change. The last time I heard anything
about myself was that I’m boring—that date ended rather quickly. But what can I say? I am
who I am. I doubt pubs, restaurants, or parties will ever interest me. I’m a born homebody
who would watch Wings of Desire rather than travel to Berlin, wander around Dublin
in Ulysses, or see Paris in Toulouse-Lautrec reproductions on the walls of my apartment.
You see, the crude reality of place and time is like raw food—it gives me indigestion.