Your existence gives me a headache. Go stand over there.

It isn’t the fall that will kill you, but the sudden stop.

She reached up and curled her fingers into mine. “He should take you to dinner.” To say that the mere thought horrified me would have been a grievous understatement. I threw up a little in my mouth then swallowed hard. I told Taft when I recovered, “Just please, for the love of God, find a girl good enough to take home to your mother. And do it soon.” “And stop dating skanks.

You totally need to watch the news." "Can't." "Why?" "It's too depressing." "Right, because hanging with dead people isn't.

Least he's committed," I offered. "Or needs to be.

Amber, you could never embarrass me." "Never?" she asked. "Never." "One time, I yelled across the store to Mom and asked her if she wanted the regular or the super-absorbent tampons. I added that, according to the box, the super-absorbent were for those heavy days. Then I asked her to rate her heaviness on a scale of one to ten." "Okay, you could." "Then while we were standing in line, I asked her why she was buying three boxes of Summer's Eve in the middle of winter." I set her at arm's length. "Wow." "I know, right? I had no idea a person could turn so red.

I shifted in my chair as Dad waited for a response. He seemed determined, his resolve unwavering. This would take tact. Prudence. Possibly Milk Duds. “Are you psychotic?” I asked, realizing my plan to charm and bribe him if need be flew out the window the minute I opened my mouth.