“The reality is i know I’m a psycho. Not a body parts in a meat locker kind of psycho. I’m more of a twenty-five minute conversation with my television kind of psycho. I used to tell myself that it was normal and it was how I got material. But the chatter with inannimate objects is increasing on a daily basis. I need to get a fuckin’ dog or something. That would be a nice bridge towards slowly getting along with other humans. Start with a toaster, move up to fish, then get some sort of mammal, and then reintroduce myself to the herd at a food court.”
- from the blog of Bill Burr.
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