What are you doing here?” [ndr prison] Selling Girl Scout cookies,” I said. “Want some? The Samoas are terrific.” (Max II to Max)

You can call me Agent Mickelson,' he told me with a smile. 'What about you? Is Max short for something? Maxine?' 'No, Dean. It's just Max.

Advanced life-forms, my seweet patootie. Jerks. Both of them.

Am I tough? Am I strong? Am I hard-core? Absolutely. Did I whimper with pathetic delight when I sank my teeth into my hot fried-chicken sandwich? You betcha.

Meaning what? We're going to pretend nothing's going on? That's stupid. The only way to deal with any of this is to get it out in the open." Have you been watching Oprah again?

Oh, my God. It hit me like a tsunami then: how perfect he was for me, how he was everything I could possibly hope for, as a friend, boyfriend - maybe even more. He was it for me. There would be no more looking. I really, really loved him, with a whole new kind of love I'd never felt before, something that made every other kind of love I'd ever felt just seem washed out and wimpy in comparison. I loved him with every cell in my body, every thought in my head, every feather in my wings, every breath in my lungs. And air sacs.

Right now, America looks like a fatheaded, shortsighted, gas-guzzling arrogant blowhard to the rest of the world.