Amen" Lula said and she made the sign of the cross. "I thought you were Baptist." "Yeah, but we don't got any hand signals for an occasion like this.

There’s always tomorrow.” “Exactly,” she said, finishing off her first doughnut, selecting a second. Maybe she wouldn’t starve to death, she decided. Maybe she’d eat herself into obesity and explode. Death by doughnut.

Tastykakes are just another of the many advantages of living in Jersey. They’re made in Philly and shipped to Trenton in all their fresh squishiness. I read once that 439,000 Butterscotch Krimpets are baked every day. And not a heck of a lot of them find their way to New Hampshire. All that snow and scenery and what good does it do you without Tastykakes?

Ranger sent us to check on you," Hal said. "We just got here, and we heard shots." "Some moron ate my jelly doughnut," Lula said. "So I shot him.

Suppose I lay down on the pavement and you run over me a few times with my own car...just for old times.

When I was six years old I sprinkled sugar on my head, convinced myself it was pixie dust, wished myself invisible, and walked into the boys' bathroom at school.

The dog ran into the kitchen, stuck his nose in Grandma's crotch, and snuffled. Dang," Grandma said. "Guess my new perfume really works. I'm gonna have to try it out at the seniors meeting.