Max?” said the Gasman. “Are those, um, rats?” Lovely. “Yes, those do appear to be either rats or mice on steroids,” I said briskly, trying not to shriek and climb the walls like a girly-girl.

I remembered something my first partner had told me. Never wrestle with a pig, Lindsay. You both get dirty. The pig likes it.

I don't know about the rest of you who have little voices, but something about mine made me feel completely compelled to listen to it.

Some kids get called "bundles of joy" or "slices of heaven" or "dreams come true." We got "the fifty-fourth generation of DNA experiments." Doesn't have the same warm and fuzzy feel. But maybe I'm oversensitive.

Do I open it? Do I open it? Of course I freaking open it!

i play a mean harmonica

Iggy: "Now what? Who you gonna call?" A quiet voice in the hallway outside: "Ghostbusters!" (Captain Perry and John groan) John: "That phrase is ruined forever.