Saved by the grandma" Ranger

Mooner was walking around laying his hands on the cars, divining karma. "this is it", he said, standing by a small khaki-colored jeep."this car has protective qualities" You mean like a guardian angel?" I mean, like, it has seatbelts

He’s sort of a homeless horse,” I said. “I’m leaving for the airport in two seconds, and I won’t be back for a couple days. You can put the horse in the garage, but I don’t want that horse in my apartment.” “Who would put a horse in an apartment? That’s dumb.” “Where’s the horse staying now?” “My apartment.” “I can always count on you to brighten my day,” Ranger said. And he disconnected.

I hung my head. Ranger was next on the list. “Yo,” Ranger said when he answered. “Small problem.” “No kidding. Your car just went off the screen.” “It sort of burned up.” Silence. “And you know that keypad you gave me? It was in the car.” “Babe.

I paused for a light at Hamilton and TWlfth and noticed the Nissan was running rough at idle. Two blocks later it backfired and stalled. I coaxed it into the center of the city. Ffft, ffft, ffft, KAPOW! Ffft, ffft, ffft, KAPOW! A Trans Am pulled up next to me at a light. The Trans Am was filled with high school kids. One of them stuck his head out of the passenger-side window. "Hey lady," he said. "Sounds like you got a fartmobile." I flipped him an Italian goodwill gesture and pulled the ball cap low on my forehead. (Three to get Deadly)

If you want to cry, you're not going to like my books.

I always know it's Sunday because I wake up feeling apologetic. That's one of the cool things about being a Catholic . . . it's a multifaceted experience. If you lose the faith, chances are you'll keep the guilt, so it isn't as if you've been skunked altogether.