Being a teenager is the worst thirty years of your life. But it all changes after that. You get a great car, a great job. You got a wife, kids, you got your health. But then your company is sold out from under you, your stocks tank, your wife's sleeping with the gardener and your teenage daughter is pregnant. And you notice that you have a prostate so hard, you can actually take a hammer to it. But hey, not one zit.
Being a teenager is the worst thirty years of your life. Peer pressure, acne, final exams, seven little tiny hairs on your upper lip. Luckily, the girls never noticed your infantile moustache, 'cos they were hyptonised by the fire engine sized zit on your forehead.
Sloppy Firsts perfectly captures the turbulent roller-coaster ride that is being a teenager. This is an (at times) intimate, painfully honest peek at a girl's coming of age. Getting to know Jessica was like meeting a new best friend. I miss her already.
Being a teenager is an amazing time and a hard time. It's when you make your best friends - I have girls who will never leave my heart and I still talk to. You get the best and the worst as a teen. You have the best friendships and the worst heartbreaks.
If I'm really honest, I'm not a huge fan of scary films. I remember being a teenager, and people getting out like Halloween  or Saw , and watching them, and I'd kind of just stare at the television logo and blur my eyes and pretend I was watching but I wasn't because I just found that I would take the movie home with me. I can scare myself like a pro.
I had an old band in Scandinavia, the beginning of Mercyful Fate, so it reminds me of my roots as a teenager. We used to play songs like Grinder and all that. It's really like being a teenager again. (Laughs)
We are all freaks. Yes! Alone in our rooms at night, we are all weirdoes and outcasts and losers. That is what being a teenager is all about! Whether you admit it or not, you are all worried that the others won’t accept you, that if they knew the real you, they would recoil in horror. Each of us carries with us a secret shame that we think is somehow unique…And if we are, each of us, freaks – then can’t we accept what’s different in each other and move on?