“I went to Bath and Body Works this morning, because I really needed a shower. Hygiene is important to society, I have discovered.”

“If I had a dollar for every time someone told me I reminded them of Orafoura’s shadow, I’d have a penny more than ninety nine cents. And even then that’s because I muttered it to myself this morning in the shower.”

“I don’t shower because water is the most corrosive element. Ever seen what it does to rock? I want a chiseled body, but I don’t want it to look like the Grand Canyon.”

“Being in the womb was like taking a nine-month bath. I wanted to take a shower, but no matter how hard I kicked, or how loud I screamed, my mom wouldn’t listen.”

“I need to take an exfoliating bath. Prepare the kittens’ tongues.”

“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 wrote a coded love note in my report for work. All the letters you need to read what I wrote are there—you just have to find them and rearrange the order until you’ve arrived at something romantic, and then you’ll have discovered what I wrote.”