Thou mayest choose an helpmeet," said the King to me.An helpmeet? What the great googly-moogly was that?

How did you hurt your side?" she asked.I let the air out of my lungs, relieved. "While I was distracted by the table, the chair snuck up on me."Erin looked at me with her head tilted to the side and gave me a dubious expression like she was watching the I.Q. points falling out of my ears.I laughed, which hurt, and said, "I'm just stupid clumsy. It was embarrassing. Like I was trying to dance with the furniture but the furniture was drunk.

The Robaccio Restaurant was one of those places that sounded like a nice Italian trattoria--and it was. The funny thing about the place was the name: a blend of two Italian words. The word "robaccia" meant "trash" in Italian and "bacio" was "kiss." Putting the two words together was like naming a British pub the Rubbish Smooch, which someone in London really needs to do.

Name a song. Any song at all."She thought for a moment and said, "'Claire de Lune.'"I placed my hands on the keyboard. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back and struck a key, sounding a single note. "There you go. Gimme another one. I can play the first note of anything. As long as I get to choose the key it's in.

Son of a poodle.

May I help you?""Mr. Neck-uh-stone-sack please," I replied."Um. You mean Nat?""Yeah. This is Counselor Smallwater's law office. May I speak with Nat?""Well, he's in a class right now. Can I take a message?""Hmm. I suppose it's all right. You can just tell him that his annulment is official now. He and his sister are no longer married.