“The name's Clem Williamson Snide. I am a private asshole.”

“Here's the news: I am going to sue the Brown & Williamson Tobacco Company, manufacturers of Pall Mall cigarettes, for a billion bucks! Starting when I was only twelve years old, I have never chain-smoked anything but unfiltered Pall Malls. And for many years now, right on the package, Brown & Williamson have promised to kill me. But I am eighty-two. Thanks a lot, you dirty rats. The last thing I ever wanted was to be alive when the three most powerful people on the whole planet would be named Bush, Dick and Colon.”

“↑ top up position downThe fact that I suspect I'm an asshole means I probably am not, because a real asshole doesn't think he's an asshole, does he? Therefore, by realizing that I'm an asshole, I am in fact negating that very realization, am I not? Descartes's Asshole Axiom: I think I am; therefor I'm not one.”

“I am a private detective. I am paid to be inquisitive and presumptuous.”

“How did you get my number anyway?”“Some asshole named Nash.”“Asshole?”“Yeah, asshole. Don’t tell me you don’t think he’s an asshole!”I laugh uncomfortably. “Um, no I don’t think he’s an asshole. He’s always been nice to me.”asshole. He’s always been nice to me.”“Of course he has. You’re gorgeous. What man wouldn’t be nice to you?”“Plenty.”“Assholes, all of them,” he teases.“They’re assholes, too?”“Yep.”“Is everyone an asshole today?”“Yep,” he repeats. “Word of the day toilet paper.”I laugh, genuinely this time. “Is that right?”

“I am selfish, private and easily bored. Will this be a problem?”