I should have known you’d have no taste,” Olivia says and rubs her temples. “Tacky from the tips of her toes, to her hair colored with what I can only assume is actual bleach.” She turns and points to John. “Hey, you would know. Does the carpet match the drapes?

Fucking morning people, they just don’t understand what it a chore it is for us normal people to not want to leave our warm beds and face the miserable sun.

My god, I sound like a chick. I must be suffering the debilitating condition called DIC, Dick In Charge, since obviously he's running the show right now.

You do know you’re a woman, right?” I ask.“Are you sure?” Olivia asks with an astonished face. “I thought I had a penis.

You’re not so much of a shmuck after all, Jarry.”“Thanks, PITA. But you tell anyone that I’m going soft, and I’ll deny it with my last breath.”“Would I do that?” Sarah asks with what she attempts to be an innocent expression, and fails miserably.“Yes,” I say easily. “Yes, you would.

I'll be your shovel.

Time is precious and should be spent doing things that make you happy, not brushing those very moments aside. That’s when you really die, and I plan on living.

Assumptions are for assholes.

You were supposed to be my wingman, not my freaking kamikaze pilot.

What’s wrong with you?” John asks suspiciously. I give him a ‘what chu talkin’ ‘bout Willis?’ look and he explains. “You just woke up.” I nod. “Walked into the kitchen.” Once again I nod, not seeing what the big deal is. “And didn’t rip apart the cabinets like a rabid squirrel looking for coffee.” I shrug at that, I didn’t even remember it. “What the fuck have you done with my best friend?