“Weird? One day you’re normal and the next, you’re walking around with a butterfly attached to your back. Then Malice in Wonderland tries to squeeze my head off, and you’re calling it weird. This is beyond weird. Crazy, fantastical even, but definitely not weird.”

“Either you’re one hell of an actress, or you’re the dumbest person to ever walk the face of this planet.”

“You know, while you’re off sexercizing, I’ll be sitting here all by my lonesome watching lame ass lifetime movies.”

“You kind of lose the right to bitch someone out when you’re no longer slapping groins.”

“You’re not weird, are you? (Jack)Not particularly, no. (Syd)Well, good. I got enough weirdness for the lot of us. Don’t want to share it. (Jack)”

“Sweet Jesus! Sweet, sweet Jesus!” Mom called to the Savior, caught up in the divine intervention that was Hank and me.I narrowed my eyes at her. “Stop cal ing Jesus, Mom. Hank’s gonna think you’re weird,” I snapped.“She is weird,” Dad said.“I’m not weird,” Mom returned.”

“I had fun today,” he says. “You’re kind of weird.”