“They say there are 7 billion people on earth. I don't know what accountant came up with that number, but in my humble opinion, they might have been off by at least a dozen. You see, my and my friends were hiding during the count.”

“I’d rather count to one billion, than waste my time thinking I could count on you.”

“I have a list of people to kill. All but number 33 are my clones. Who’s number 33? Why you are, of course.”

“The morning grass was damp and cool with dew. My yellow rain slicker must have looked sharp contrasted against the bright green that spring provided. I must have looked like an early nineteenth century romantic poet (Walt Whitman, perhaps?) lounging around a meadow celebrating nature and the glory of my existence. But don’t make this about me. Don’t you dare. This was about something bigger than me (by at least 44 feet).I was there to unselfishly throw myself in front of danger (nothing is scarier than a parked bulldozer), in the hopes of saving a tree, and also procuring a spot in a featured article in my local newspaper. It’s not about celebrity for me, it’s about showing that I care. It’s not enough to just quietly go about caring anymore. No, now we need the world to see that we care. I was just trying to do my part to show I was doing my part.But no journalists or TV news stations came to witness my selfless heroics. In fact, nobody came at all, not even Satan’s henchmen (the construction crew). People might scoff and say, “But it was Sunday.” Yes, it was Sunday. But if you’re a hero you can’t take a day off.I’d rather be brave a day early than a day late. Most cowards show up late to their destiny. But I always show up early, and quite often I leave early too, but at least I have the guts to lay down my life for something I’d die for. Now I only laid down my life for a short fifteen-minute nap, but I can forever hold my chin high as I loudly tell anyone who will listen to my exploits as an unsung hero (not that I haven’t written dozens of songs dedicated to my bravery).Most superheroes hide anonymously behind masks. That’s cowardly to me. I don’t wear a mask. And the only reason I’m anonymous is that journalists don’t respond to my requests for interviews, and when I hold press conferences nobody shows up, not even my own mother.The world doesn’t know all the good I’ve done for the world. And that’s fine with me. Not really. But if I have to go on being anonymous to make this world a better place, I will. But that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about changing my hours of altruism from 7-8 am Sunday mornings to 9-5 am Monday through Friday, and only doing deeds of greatness in crowded locations.”

“During conversation, I have no problem making eye contact—with myself in the mirror. Or with my clone, if he’s not rolling his eyes because he knows what I’m going to say.”

“What can I say about love that’s never been said by me or anyone else? Well, sometimes love smells like my farts, after I eat a dozen roses.”

“My grandma came over yesterday, and I had just jumped out of the shower, so I answered the door in my towel. I know it was a little indecent, but I didn’t have time to dry off and change out of my wetsuit.”