“I don't know why they call them Cheerios, I ate an entire box and didn't feel any happier!!”

“So why did I think about her every second? Why was I so much happier the minute I saw her? I felt like maybe I knew the answer, but how could I be sure? I didn't know, and I didn't have any way to find out.Guys don't talk about stuff like that. We just lie under the pile of bricks.”

“The chili I ate made for an explosive bathroom experience. I don't know how to put this delicately, but I missed the toilet entirely.”

“The chili I ate for lunch resulted in an explosive bathroom experience. Umm...I don't know how to put this delicately, but...I missed the toilet entirely.”

“And stop calling people gay. I don't even know why that's an insult. There are real gay people in the world, you know, and there's nothing wrong with them. Calling someone gay, like it's a bad thing, is like calling someone a dentist--it doesn't make any freaking sense!”

“On the right side-panel of the verbose and somewhat tautological box of Cheerios, it is written,If you are not satisfied with the quality and/or performance of the Cheerios in this box, send name, address, and reason for dissatisfaction—along with entire boxtop and price paid—to: General Mills, Inc., Box 200-A, Minneapolis, Minn., 55460. Your purchase price will be returned.It isn’t enough that there is a defensive tone to those words, a slant of doubt, an unappetizing broach of the subject of money, but they leave the reader puzzling over exactly what might be meant by the “performance” of the Cheerios.Could the Cheerios be in bad voice? Might not they handle well on curves? Do they ejaculate too quickly? Has age affected their timing or are they merely in a mid-season slump? Afflicted with nervous exhaustion or broken hearts, are the Cheerios smiling bravely, insisting that the show must go on?”