Oh, I get it," I said. "It's a parable. Cute. Let's go eat.

A woman’s magazine quiz: Question: You decide to do the dread deed and just as things are starting to get hot he comes, rolls over, and asks, “Was it good for you?” You: a. Say, “God, yes! That was the best seventeen seconds of my life” b. Say, “Sure, as good as it gets for me with a man.” c. Put a Certs in your navel and say, “That’s for you, Mr. Bunnyman. You can have it on your way back up, after the job is finished

Why write a song when no one can play the notes or understand the lyrics?

I can be most colorful and inventive when I am angry.

The Winter Woman is as wild as a blizzard, as fresh as new snow. While some see her as cold, she has a fiery heart under that ice-queen exterior. She likes the stark simplicity of Japanese art and the daring complexity of Russian literature. She prefers sharp to flowing lines, brooding to pouting, and rock and roll to country and western. Her drink is vodka, her car is German, her analgesic is Advil. The Winter Woman likes her men weak and her coffee strong. She is prone to anemia, hysteria, and suicide.

She hugged me and I could feel the heat rise in my face, either from shame or love, like there was a difference.

Kayso, it turns out that driving an actual car is way harder than it is in 'Grand Theft Auto: Zombie Hooker Smackdown.