I just wrapped this movie called The Wedding Crashers which was a pretty big break for me.

For my first wedding I cried all the way down the aisle. My fake eyelash came off. My nose was red. My eyes were swollen. I'm not one of those pretty criers.

One tradition I have with my friends is that when one of us gets married we have a ton of fragrance oils and pretty bottles at the bachelorette party. Everyone puts a drop or two in a bottle for the bride and makes a wish and the bride wears our creation on her wedding day.

We were pretty good mates until the Beatles started to split up and Yoko came into it. It was more like old army buddies splitting up on account of wedding bells.

Here is a pretty good rule of thumb for Democratic Presidents: if it didn't work for Franklin D. Roosevelt who won four terms and a World War it probably won't work for you either.

All this happened more or less. The war parts anyway are pretty much true.

It's been a pretty fun ride to tell you the truth.

I'm not pretty. The truth is I didn't think I could be a model at all. I was looking at some of the guys on the walls at Irene Marie and I thought to myself 'Jesus Christ. I can't do this. I don't look anything like these guys'.

The truth is if anyone saw my home life I'm pretty sure it would look like other families' around the world. There's a lot of juggling to be done.

I pefer an ugly truth to a pretty lie. If someone is telling me the truth that is when I will give my heart.