That’s my shameful confession is that I’m everything they want me to be. I’m a fucking breastfeeding baby on this tube that comes into your living room…When you’re really confessing it’s like, ‘and I don’t believe that the confession helps, because otherwise I would’ve confessed it a long time ago.’ A confession is something that you don’t want to be true, and we’re primates so if you hide it long enough, it goes away. A cat shits on the carpet, it dries, turns into crumbs, blows away in the wind, take your shitty underwear, put it in the garbage…you play with matches, mom doesn’t catch you it never happened, you murder somebody and the body goes away, you’re not guilty…Here’s the thing about confession: no fucking resolution!