Oh, to be 15. It's really a trip. I'm sitting here, a young 25, and I can remember 15. But when I was 15, ten years ago was 5, and I couldn't remember a thing. I mean, what happens when you're 5? You cry, shit your pants, get chased around by girls, watch TV and sleep. But 15! Ahhhh, smoking cheap weed, getting laid, drinking warm beer. Not a care in the world. 25 to 45 will be the same thing: wife, kids and debt. After 55, it's more debt, grandkids and death. I love it! Life is queer, mang.