The girl in me wanted to slap Lung across his face and yell, "Get your eyes off my sticky buns, ya creep!

Hey, if you're going to price yourself, I say go high.

Oh my God, this can't be happening!" I cried. "What?" "Mopeds? Those are the wheels Pete gives us? I knew he was pissed off at me! It was all that time I spent in the hospital wasn't it? Or was it the wrecks? But I only tore up one car last time! And that wasn't my fault!

Still enmeshed from the knees down, Vayl flopped off the cabinet before we realized he needed a hand down, falling fast and hard like a penguin who hasn't bought the whole flightless scenario.

The girl in me wanted to slap Lung across his face and yell, "Get your eyes off my sticky buns, ya creep!

Sometimes things would be so much simpler if you could just pull out your gun and shoot the bad guy. Reason number seventeen why Indiana Jones is my hero.

communication is such a two-edged sword for guys. On the one hand, they almost always mean what they say. Refreshing, I know. On the other hand, getting them to actually say it can be like coaxing a corpse to tap-dance. Not that it can't be done. But it's so freaking exhausting. Not to mention the cost in heavyweight fishing line and Savion Glover videos.