I was disappointed in Coop. He hated being bored and so did I. He was always looking for different things to do and coming up with new adventures that kept us moving. That was his job. Trolling for girls at the beach was okay by me, but I didn't want it to be our sole focus. Besides, the girls I liked had more interesting things to do than spend every waking moment sitting around at the beach comparing tans.

If I weren't already dead, I'd have to kill myself just so I could roll over in my grave.

Dont you know... I'm the boggyman."-St. Dane

Spader and I were nearly killed. Three times. We were also robbed and witnessed a gruesome murder. Happy birthday to me!

Do you know how hard it is to gather seventy thousand people? Especially people who are confused and scared that they might be eaten by hungry dinosaurs?

We may have been like needles in a hay stack, but they were like needles . . . in a stack of needles

I stood on the street, staring up at the most normal-looking house in the world. My house. I'd lived there my entire life. It was home. It was safe. It was haunted. The only other explanation was that I was demented. I couldn't say which I was rooting for.