“So your junk food has a shelf life of twenty-two years and will probably outlive your fat, sorry ass.”
“Are you saying that your fat-ass cat has turned me into a vampire? Um, maybe?”
“Lace: "Are you saying that your fat-ass cat has turned me into a vampire?"Cal: "Um, maybe?”
“So here I am. Twenty-eight years old, with thirty looming on the horizon. Drunk. Fat. Alone. Unloved. And, worst of all, a cliche, Ally McBeal and Bridget Jones put together, which was probably about how much I weighed...”
“I want to be sitting in front of my computer, where you can press a button to block out your junk mail. These two are my junk mail.”
“In my opinion, there's no condition in life that can't be ameliorated by a dose of junk food.”