I used to watch a fucking cartoon when I was growing up called Care Bears. It was about a fucking group of teddy-bear people. They were like teddy bears, but they were like people, and they were all different colors, and they all fucking just walked around, caring. They cared about each other and everything else. They all had different designs on their stomachs, and the designs told you something about what they might be like inside. Very, very loving group of beings. And when shit got real bad, as nice as those teddy bears were, they didn't get mean faces.

They got determined. Hmm! And the leader would say, “Come on, guys. It’s time for the Care Bear Stare!” Remember that shit? And them little teddy bears would lock arms… and stare at the problem– and I'm not even bullshitting– actual love would shoot out of their chests… and would dispel anything that was fucked up. And when we grew up, we wanted to be like those bears. And then we got our hearts broken, because we found out that life wasn't gonna let us do that and that it’s impossible to shoot love out of your chest.

However, I have shot love onto somebody's chest before. I do it all the time. It's the next best thing.