“I don't have to bitch, because Bunny's doing enough for all of us. Clearly Miss Homemaker doesn't find hiking as easy as pie, because she's cursing in time to our footsteps, and instead of hearing left, left, I left my wife and forty-eight kids home in the kitchen in starving' condition with nothing but gingerbread left, left I hear shit, shit, these bugs are like shit, shit. . . .”

“Feel so fucking angry; don't want to be reminded of you, But when I left my shit in your kitchen, I said goodbye to your bedroom it smelled of you”

“When you're in the shit up to your neck, there's nothing left to do but sing.”

“I left you sweet and smiling in this goddamed bed and I don’t see you or hear your voice for four days? Then I walk into your office and you give me attitude and tell me to kiss your ass because you’re in a pissy mood about some shit you refuse to share? No. You gotta know, darlin’, that shit don’t play with me.”

“Shit is the tofu of cursing and can be molded to whichever condition the speaker desires. Hot as shit. Windy as shit. I myself was confounded as shit...”

“They’d just left when Zsadist came in at a dead run. “Shit, shit, shit…”What’s doing, my brother?”“I’m teaching and I’m late.”Zsadist grabbed a sleeve of bagels, a turkey leg out of the refridge and a quart of ice cream from the freezer. “Shit.”“That’s your breakfast?”“Shut up. It’s almost a turkey sandwich.”