The Monkees are like the mafia. You’re in for life. Nobody gets out.
I’m about to challenge for the Maryland Cup in the next couple of years, as an owner, a trainer, and a rider.
Justin Bieber stole my haircut. And Axl Rose stole my dance!
You can put me in the basement or the penthouse, it doesn’t matter to me.
Ah, love. A dreadful bond! And yet, so easily severed.
As far as groupies, I never saw any of them.
During the summer, Screen Gems launched the New Monkees, which miserably failed I understand. I never saw it.
You know I used to be a heartthrob, and now I’m a coronary.
My family is a part of my life and everything is all a mixture of enjoyment.
Now, let’s see how you fare against the Flying Dutchman and her vile captain, Davy Jones!
Trash? The only trash I see here are two little boys lost at sea and a pathetic excuse for a seaworthy vessel!
We wanted to interview people on the show, do variety, get the artists, the guests involved with us in our group. They wanted to keep the four guys together. We wanted to change the format.
I’ve got a farm in England where I breed horses.
You will not forestall my judgement!
It’s not about what you have, it’s what people think you have.
The thing is, the reader doesn’t want to hear about bad times.
Well, I have my immortal soul. At least, I’m pretty sure I didn’t misplace it somewhere along the way.
The only people who didn’t like The Monkees were the French, and they don’t even like themselves, so what’s the point?
And it really pisses Peter and Micky off when I get onto one of those tangents where I start to do humor.
I guess it’s nice to have someone to love while you’re looking for someone to love.
Around the property I have here, I’m about to put an all weather race track. I’m about to build stables. I’m about to ship over a couple of my thoroughbreds from England.