And I found this one:
"Instead of describing things as 'phallic,' use the word 'penile.'"
Say what you will about the perils of youth, but I was a smart guy in 2008. If I could only talk to that kid today...
What's on your mind, Dandy? How do you come up with this shit? Where were you going with that "penile" thing? Do you know how special that was? How are you doing with the ladies?
Yes sir, that was one sharp, mysterious young man. I fucked that up pretty seriously, though. I don't mean to imply that I ruined myself with drugs—I don't do drugs, I drink. And I only drink what I make myself in the garage. I'm not an idiot.
No, I killed young Dandy up here (I'm pointing to my head). Did you think that such a clever, innocent psyche could survive six months of thinking through the lens of what I would do if I were forced to take up Frodo's burden? I feel lucky that the attraction to under-four-foot men lasted as briefly as it did. Everything beyond that was a freebie, and the youthful inventiveness wasn't part of it. After thrusting my digit into The One Ring, there was no going back. (And I'm sorry if that sounds penile to you, but it's the truth.)
I'm not down about it, though; it's not all bad. Being less creative has led to me getting arrested way less often. I mean, the very next item in my notes was "See what my neighbor's neck skin smells like." That's an experience I would happily forget, and the aftermath wasn't a great way to spend my birthday.