“I need to call it a night. But only because I don’t know what else to call it. What’s in between evening and morning?”

“I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you always in those intervals.”

“When I’m tired, I say, “I’m calling it a night.” Well, what else am I going to call it? Nathan?”

“I don’t see why not,” I all but snapped at him. “His body was experimented upon, and there are records of it. What else would you call it?” “I don’t know. Necropsy?”

“I don’t think Kitchen makes this. What’s it called again?""Jell-O Surprise." Link grinned."What’s the surprise?" Ridley examined the red gelatin more closely."What they put in it.”

“It always pisses me off when I’m calling in to some Morning Zoo radio show to promote God-only-knows what—probably this book, so get ready, I’m comin’—when the DJ actually tries to convince me that there are as many female comics as male ones. Cue hypermasculine Morning Zoo Hacky McGee voice: “So Kath, I don’t know what you chicks are always complaining about.” To which I respond: “Really? Why don’t you call your local comedy club and ask for the Saturday night lineup? I guarantee you the male to female ratio is going to be about nine to one. You dick-wad.”