“She patted him on the arm. “You’re fucked up, Mister. But you’re cool.” “I believe that’s what they call the human condition,” said Shadow.”

“You’re thinking about him naked, aren’t you?” “Unfortunately.” She patted my arm. “And to think—I was actually hesitant about dating him. Oh, and speaking of which. Chaps. Enough said.”

“I don’t believe in guilty pleasures. If you fucking like something, like it. That’s what’s wrong with our generation: that residual punk rock guilt, like, “You’re not supposed to like that. That’s not fucking cool.” Don’t fucking think it’s not cool to like Britney Spears’ “Toxic.” It is cool to like Britney Spears’ “Toxic”! Why the fuck not? Fuck you! That’s who I am, goddamn it! That whole guilty pleasure thing is full of fucking shit.”

“Wounded?” was all I could manage. “Yes,” said Pat. “And you’re wounded in the same place. That’s what fathers do if they don’t heal their wounds. They wound their children in the same place.”

“He’s stupid about you,” Ray said, glaring at me. “And you’re stupid about him. You’re both stupid about each other, which would be great if you weren’t also really fucking stupid—” “Ray.” “—and can’t see it. That’s all. That’s all I’m saying.”

“That’s why I have Jericho, Jared, and Zarek. (Acheron)Psycho-ass? You’re bringing Psycho-ass back? (Nick)That’s Mister Psycho-ass to you, punk. (Zarek)”