“Guy: What has nine arms and sucks?Me: What?Guy: Def Leppard.”

“Dude: What do Pink Floyd and Dale Earnhardt have in common?Me: The wall was their last hit.”

“He'll get what he deserves one day." Leaning even closer to me, Natalie whispers, "We all fucking will.”

“Do you guys ever feel like you're locked inside a car that's moving really fast?"What kinda car?" Chris asks. Like a fucking red Monte Carlo with a black racing stripe cutting through the middle of it, and there's some superintense Fantomas shit jolting from the car speakers, like Mike Patton and Buzz Osbourne just completely losing it, but no steering wheel. The car doesn't have one. And the car is so out of control, right? It's swerving all over the road, and you're crying, pounding your fists against the window trying to jump out of it, trying to bail from it, and then all of these people start popping up on the road, like your parents and your sister and your friends, and the car is playing human dodgeball with them. It's trying to not run anyone over, but it's not slowing down, either, and then some junkie babe pops up in the middle of the road and the car destroys her, leaving her mangled body in its burnt rubber path, and then it keeps on going and going even though it can't maintain anything close to the same speed.”

“And Cliff goes, "It just makes you wonder."About what?"About what we could get away with if we wanted to."My throat tightens. Cliff says, "Probably all kinds of stuff."I feel nauseous. Smiling, Cliff says, "Probably anything.”

“What the fuck is love anyway?Is it a phone call the next morning?Is it picking up a hundred-dollar-meal tab?Is it flowers on the fifth date?Or is it sleeping on the wet spot?”

“Travis, you don't even know what you're talking about. This is complete bullshit. You can't just come back and wave a wand and try to make everything the way it was.”