I'm just trying to make a smudge on the collective unconscious.
Fall is my favorite season in Los Angeles, watching the birds change color and fall from the trees.
People say New Yorkers can't get along. Not true. I saw two New Yorkers, complete strangers, sharing a cab. One guy took the tires and the radio; the other guy took the engine.
I cannot sing, dance or act; what else would I be but a talk show host.
There's not a man, woman or child on the face of the earth who doesn't enjoy a tasty beverage.