I came to Alejandro last night looking for some action. A small Chiquita came up to me and said, “Thank you for your service, Soldier,” and I said, “Show me.” That worked out beautifully yesterday. Rinse and repeat?

When they send you out to war, nobody tells you how messed up you get out there . . . or what comes back.

Nobody comes back the same. The gullible ones go for therapy, hoping for a fix, but I know better.

I live my life day by day, knowing that, for me, this is all there is—a soulless life.

I have no illusions of ever meeting a soulmate or having a HEA. . . that’s for normal people.

No one ever comes back normal from a war . . . that’s a fallacy.