He just waited until I stopped talking and said, 'Jesus, kid, you're almost a detective. All you need now is a gun, a gut, and three ex-wives. So what's your theory?

I inherited that penchant for intellectualism, a character flaw that these days can only be thoroughly eradicated by getting Z’ed up.

The sky is like a monochromatic contemporay painting, drawing me in its illusion of depth, pulling me up.

While I did not fancy myself a particularly good person, I never thought my first real sexual action would be prostitutional.

I wanted to be one of those people who have streaks to maintain, who scorch the ground with their intensity. But for now, at least I knew such people, and they needed me, just like comets need tails.

"Please stop," I said. "You're upsetting the black Santas."

The joy you bring us is so much greater than the sadness we feel about your illness.