I climbed into Misery and called Uncle Bob. “We hooking up?” “Why does everything out of your mouth make me sound incestuous?” “Um, I wasn’t aware that it did. Perhaps you have a guilty conscience.” “Charley.” “Is there something you need to get off your chest? Besides that skank I saw you with the other day?

Where am I going and why am I in this handbasket? ~Bumper sticker~

"I've been thinking," Brooklyn said as I gawked at the god sitting next to me, "if you get all lovey-dovey and decide to elope to Las Vegas where Jared uses his powers to clean up at the poker tables and you guys buy a mansion in the Manzano Mountains with twenty-seven rooms and decide - because you're rich and all - to buy a new computer, can I have your iMac then?"... "Um, no, you're not getting my iMac." "Dang."

I stood and walked around the desk so I could stand over him. Menacingly. Like Darth Vader, only with better lung capacity.

His gaze slid over me like a veil of fire. He could ignite my deepest desires with a single glance. I decided right then and there no more reading romance novels by candelight.

Before I tell you, I have to know three things," I said. "Okay." "One, are you sitting down?" "Yes." "Two, are you mentally stable?" "More than you'll ever be." Well, that was uncalled for. "And three, how do you spell schizophrenia?" "What does that have to do with anything?" "Nothing. I just wanted to see if you'd tell me.

There is a great need for a sarcasm font.