My MOTHER was an English TEACHER who decided to become a math teacher, and she used me as a guinea pig at HOME. My father had been a math teacher and then went to work at a steel mill because, frankly, he COULD make more MONEY doing that.

I've always put my HORSES, dogs, and pig before my own needs, so I was well PREPARED to put my son first. I'm USED to waking up in the middle of the night... no matter how tired I am, jumping up to TAKE care of my ANIMALS. Now, I do the same for my son.

I don't THINK it's a GOOD advert for any restaurant, a FAT chef, and secondly, who wants to EAT a dessert when the chef's a fat PIG.

I'm a SELFISH, LITTLE PIG of a MAN.

The fact is, I DIET every day of my life. I have to WORK at it. But I diet so I can PIG out.

On occasion, we at 'MythBusters' COME across stories we want to TEST that REQUIRE using a pig carcass to simulate human PHYSIOLOGY.

I'm a very BORING person, and all I do is WANT to paint and to record what I feel moves me or what interests me, and that can be in the FORM of a pig or in the form of President Kennedy.

I can't believe I managed to GO through a liberal-arts and theater EDUCATION and TAKE all these women's-studies classes and NEVER have addressed that the 'Muppets' were all boys, EXCEPT for one pig who was obsessed with herself!

By the end, EVERYBODY had a label - pig, LIBERAL, radical, revolutionary... If you had EVERYTHING but a gun, you were a radical but not a revolutionary.

When I was a KID, I wanted to emulate Mel Blanc, who is arguably one of the most legendary voiceover recording artists of our TIME. I USED to watch all the cartoons where he would voice Daffy, Elmer Fudd and Porky the PIG. I knew one DAY I wanted to do that.

I treat my writing like a day job, like my main job, EVEN if for many YEARS I was doing other jobs to pay the bills. I worked as a copy editor. I was a medical guinea pig. I was an eBay power seller of ladies' handbags. I was an ASSISTANT to a bookie at the horse races. I bartended. I did anything I COULD to make ends meet.

And call me a PIG, but isn't it brilliantly refreshing how early the DUTCH EAT dinner? When they're still laying out the cutlery in achingly HIP Barcelona, they're hanging the Closed sign on the restaurant DOORS of old Amsterdam.

They're ALWAYS saying I'm a capitalistic PIG. I suppose I am. But... it's GOOD for my drumming.