Knives and candlelight,” he said, “how romantic.

Everything's just fucking Disney with you.

I'm sorry I missed the meeting and hurt your little feely-weels okay?

As if I'd had time to drug it in the two milliseconds she'd let me out of her sight.

You couldn't find your dick in the dark, you scheming, sleaze-mongering scumwad.

Go make love to a tube sock.

Too bad. Game over. Insert new fucking quarter.

We both want you dead. I'm bringing the friendship bracelets to the next meeting.

I'm as lucky as a bed of oysters on cioppino night.