"I want to be in the Guinness Book of World Record’s for something ridiculous like juggling poison-tipped porcupines, playing the piano blindfolded while tightrope walking in tights, or throwing a rubber ball in a circular rim adorned with a dangling white nylon net."
"I want to go to all the topless bars in America and try to sell every single one of them a roof."
"I want to replace my knees with miniature Rube Goldberg machines. That way you'll know how difficult it is for me to simply walk out of your life."
"I want to mail my mailman something. He always brings me mail, yet I never give him any mail. Maybe he will appreciate the thought, or maybe he will feel I am making more work for him."
"I want to scream sometimes, because I hate when people refer to a dead person as the “late” so and so. I’m sorry to break that bad news, but that person isn’t just late—they’re not even coming!"
"I want to gather up all the ink cartridges in the universe, because somewhere, mixed in with all that ink, is the next great American novel. And I’d love nothing more than to drink it."