Look at my skin. It wasn’t born from a clean, new sock. No way. This is a sock that has been used. Look at my mouth. My mouth sheathed a real heel. A man’s heel. It rammed against the end of a steel-toed boot. That makes a monkey tough. Very tough. There’s human blood in my mouth. Blister blood. And foot sweat. I taste foot sweat all the time. Lumberjack foot sweat. I’m worn. I’ve been around. My mouth has walked forty-seven miles of barbed wire. Bad monkey.
– Penn Jillette, “Sock”