Oh, I forgot to tell you," Cookie said. "Amber wants your dad to get a teriyaki machine so she can sing for all the lonely barflies." "I'm a good singer, mom." Only a twelve-year-old could make the word mom sound blasphemous. I leaned into Cookie, "Does she know its not called--?" "No," she whispered. "Are you gonna tell her?" "No. It's much funnier this way.

I suck at all this supernatural stuff. But I fry a mean chicken. Oh, good. I hate it when the nice ones get fried.

In three hundred feet, turn right," Darth Vader said. The Darth Vader. I felt like we were friends now. Like I could tell him anything.

Oh, and she told me that men want only one thing. And on that note, I must give praise and thanks to the powers that be. I don't want much else from them either.

Love was not only blind, it often careened into Blithering Idiotsville as well.

After searching for a space, I parked behind the tattoo parlor in front of a sign that said NO PARKING. Since it didn't specify to whom it was referring, I figured it couldn't possibly be talking to me.

Hello?" I said, because Charley's House of Pasties seemed wrong.