“If summer had a flavor, it was pink bubble gum.”

“He gagged and spat the mouthful out on the carpet. He glared at the bottle. “Bubble gum–flavored vodka? Bubble gum?”

“The first thing I saw was the pink bubble gum, four feet lower than it should have been, inches above the ground, and framed by a set of perfectly painted lips.It was one of those huge bubbles you just know is going to pop and cover the girl's face, and she'll shriek and yell and whine that her makeup is ruined, blah, blah, blah. But the bubble didn't pop—she did that thing where you suck all the air back into your mouth, and the bubble deflated into a little pink heap.”

“The Conch Shell´s tint was that of a vagina blowing bubble gum.”

“The maestro says it's Mozart but it sounds like bubble gum”

“It’s not yummy gum if there’s no bubble. Just ask the Federal Reserve.”