I got no business going to a club. I'm a terrible dancer. I got a bad back.
There's songs you listen to at really heavy times, and you associate those songs with being depressed. 'English Rose' by The Jam, I can't listen to - it's just too heavy for me. 'Julia' by The Beatles, too. That popped up the other day, and I had to skip to the next song. They're both really awesome, moving songs, but I can't listen to them.
You have to consume Fig Newtons with either milk or an alternative milk product. It's like a conspiracy with the dairy industry. They're in cahoots.
To me, a New Yorker is someone that has general disdain toward landlords, mass-transit authorities, electric companies, sports-team managers, NYU and its students, and anything new.
'Licensed to Ill' was like a cold, and we took so much vitamin C that we'd never get that cold again.
My specialties include macaroni and cheese and ordering Chinese-food delivery.
I have no idea about the state of rap. I don't pay attention. I just listen to old music that I have.
Nobody wants to see the old person at the club.
Hardcore bands were coming out with names like Urban Waste and The Mob, you know, a lot of kind of tough names. So Beastie Boys was the stupidest name we could come up with. And unfortunately, it stuck.
