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

You don't even need to go to college no more because you could learn how to do everything on YouTube.

I don't know much about cars," Joyce said, "but I think someone took my engine.

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.

I'm done with men. I have a hamster. That's all I need.

I don't want my readers slowed down by long passages of narrative.

Turns out, that's how it is with weddings. You just keep getting in deeper and deeper until you want to throw up.