“Take your diamonds and throw em up like you're bulimic. Yeah, the beat cold, but the flow is anemic.”

“Best to get it off his chest. Own up like a man. Take his medicine. Cards on table. Beating about bush, none of. Mercy, throw himself on.”

“What's the difference between bulimics and anorexics?" I ask. "Anorexics are anorexics all the time," she says, "I'm only bulimic when I'm throwing up." Wow. She sounds just like my dad! "I'm only an alcoholic when I get drunk." There are all kinds of addicts, I guess. We all have pain. And we all look for ways to make the pain go away. Penelope gorges on her pain and then throws it up and flushes it away. My dad drinks his pain away. (107)”

“What should I do?""Throw up in your typewriter every morning.""Yeah.""Clean up every noon.”

“One year later, I got beat up at a Neil Diamond concert by a guy named Scrunchie!”

“I came up with my own expression. I like to make it hail. Yeah. That's when you throw change on sluts.”