“What’s outside my head and what’s inside my head aren’t worth mentioning. What’s worth mentioning is what’s on my head – my hair. Whatever happens, I’ll still be as fashionably coiffed as I was before the war broke out and I got dementia.”
“You never really know what’s going on inside Tony Iommi’s head. He’s the total opposite of me, in other words: no one’s ever in any doubt about what’s going on in the pile of old jelly inside my thick skull.”
“Even if it means I have to run off and live in the wild caves with a bag over my head, I still want to know what’s going on. I need to know.”
“What’s next to my bed? One night stand, though personally I find them morally outrageous, not to mention the danger from STDs.”
“What’s up?” I said.“Nothing.”“I mean what’s wrong?”“My leg is broken.”“Yeah, I noticed.”
“What’s this ”“A needle.”“What should I do with it ” He’d walked right into it. Too easy. “Please use it to pop your head. It’s obscuring my view of the room.”