You’re just using me for my body.” “You don’t have a body,” I’d remind him. “Throw that in my face.” “Technically, you don’t have a face either.

That boy needs a hobby." "Stalking is a hobby." "So is serial killing.

He seemed determines, his resolve unwavering. This would take tact. Prudence. Possible Milk Duds.

.. an emergency stash of Thin Mints. Frickin' Girl Scouts. Those things were way to addictive. They had to be laced with crack." Charlie Davidson Fourth Grave Beneath my Feet

It would be a miracle to solve this case. Luckily, I believed in miracles. No, wait, that was testicles. I believed in testicles.

I like to see the glass as half full, hopefully of jack daniels.

Did you get checked out?” “Yeah, by a hot blond who sat in the corner of the bar and made googly eyes at me.” “I meant by a doctor.” “No, but a balding yet bizarrely hot paramedic said I’d be fine." “Oh, and he’s an expert?” “At flirting.