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I'm an awful driver. I'm not going to lie about it. I'm not a good driver. I tried for a long time to pretend that I was. There's a lot of road rage and a lot of times it's directed at something I've done on the road.

I drive relatively fast - within the remits of the law, obviously - but I struggle with people who do stupid things on the road. I have a massive urge to shout expletives at them.

I don't like to drive. I don't like the aggressiveness that goes along with driving.

I have some road rage inside of me. Traffic, especially in L.A., is a pet peeve of mine.

I just don't like to drive. I'm not a bad driver, I just don't like to drive.

I'm a driver, and I love it.

My biggest complaint about drivers out in the country has tended to be that they're not in a great hurry to get where they're going. This is particularly true of old men wearing hats. If you get behind an old guy wearing a hat on a winding road, you might as well just phone ahead on your cell and tell your friends you're going to be late.

I'm a good driver.