“I knew that one of my sharpest memories of sixth grade was forever doomed to be that moment—sitting there with the overwhelming odor of rotten eggs, spaghetti, manure, dead dog, wet schoolbags, smelly socks, and the girly perfume of Amy Bellini’s shampoo … all filling my nostrils.”

“Amy Bellini and Sasha Tibbles traipsed down the aisle and wriggled into the back seat, Amy right next to me. Her damp brown hair flicked in my face as she turned to make herself more comfortable. I didn’t mind. I wouldn’t admit this to ANYONE, but I think she’s not quite as weird as the rest of the girls.”

“Like some huge, mutant chicken–I sat there hatching a gas-egg the size of a planet.”

“Mr Warty’s face swelled up like a puffer fish—all his whiskers standing straight out like poison spikes.”

“Principal Totty was one of those people who frown while they’re speaking, and then smile at the end of each sentence. It was weird. It was like there were two different people inside her brain.”

“It was massive. A blurting, busting, backfire! A flabbergasting, fire-breathing, flub-explosion! A propelling, paint-stripping, prison-break!”

“I took the sleeper out of Glasgow, and as the smelly old train bumped out of Central Station and across the Jamaica Street Bridge, I stared out at the orange halogen streetlamps reflected in the black water of the river Clyde. I gazed at the crumbling Victorian buildings that would soon be sandblasted and renovated into yuppie hutches. I watched the revelers and rascals traverse the shiny wet streets. I thought of the thrill and danger of my youth and the fear and frustration of my adult life thus far. I thought of the failure of my marriage and my failures as a man. I saw all this through my reflection in the nighttime window. Down the tracks I went, hardly aware that I was going further south with every passing second.”