"I'm an elitist scum. Welcome me to your hearts. Sorry, no time for hooligans. Readers and artists, they are my kind, but you ladies keep fucking the conservatives. You tell me about how oppressed you are by the awful men of this planet, and then you go for the lawyers, accountants, and business executives who hold you down. You date the bull neck, bulging vein, burr cut, water-head fuckin' idiots. They have two inch, piggly-wiggly dicks, probably can't even put it in you one time before they cum ... And then years later, you appear on Donahue, saying I wish my husband would eat me more, make love to me better. Eerrrrggghhhh, wrong. Sorry, honey. You had the artist who was willing to lick your butthole, you chose the guy with the bigger bank account. Fuck off! Get in the tub and reacquaint yourself with the spigot, there is your love. You let the poets jack off in the woods, in a circle. This is your penance."

- Bill Fucking Hicks.