And something chocolate, of course. A meal was not a meal without some sort of chocolate for desert.

How was your day?" Morelli asked me. "Oh, you know, the usual. Stole a truck. Blew up a building, and brought seven monkeys home with me.

I don't feel so good." Lula said. And she farted. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and did a full minute-long fart. "Excuse me." she said. I was horrified and impressed all at the same time. It was a record breaking fart. On my best day, I couldn't come near to farting like that.

I'm so busy writing and editing two books a year that I don't have time for painting anymore.

Stop the planet. I want to get off.

I don't need handcuffs to enslave a woman.

I exchanged my flannel shirt for a Rangers jersey and zapped the television on. Probably I should make more phone calls, but the Rangers were playing and priorities were priorities.