What's wrong? he said. I'll tell you what's wrong: you're killing us.But I thought that's what you wanted?
What are you doing?' Hugh moaned as I stepped out of the dressing room. 'That's three pairs of culottes you'll own now.'All I could say in my defense was 'Maybe I have a busy life.
We were standing near the Lollipop Forest when we realized that Santa is an anagram of Satan... Overhearing the customers we would substitute the Satan for the world Santa.
Though harsh in other respects, prison would be an excellent place to learn a foreign language - total immersion, and you'd have the new slang before it even hit the streets.
This town is the Greek Baltimore.
The thing to remeber is that more than anything in this world, these colored people wish they were white.
The problem isn't gaining weight, it's gaining it in the right place.
The position was offered at the last minute, when the scheduled professor found a better-paying job delivering pizza.
The last time I was up at five was because I hadn’t gone to bed yet.
Story-telling is pivotal to our well-being, as are nonethnic jokes and riddles.
Something has changed, and now, when I look at my students, I see only people who are going to eat up my time.
Nobody dreams of the things he already has.
My feet are completely flat, but for most of my life they were still shaped like feet. Now, thanks to bunions, they're shaped more like states, wide boring ones that nobody wants to drive through.
Live with liberty, and your imagination can soar.
It means ‘female dog,’ I’d explained to my sisters, but it also means ‘a woman who’s crabby and won’t let you be yourself.
Increasingly at Southern airports, instead of a good-bye or thank-you, cashiers are apt to say, Have a blessed day. This can make you feel like you’ve been sprayed against your will with God cologne....
In binghamton, new york, winter meant snow, and though I was young when we left, I was able to recall great heaps of it, and use that memory as evidence that North Carolina was, at best, a third-rate...
If you’re looking for sympathy you can find it between shit and syphilis in the dictionary.
I wanted it, I wanted, I wanted, but the moment it was mine, it ceased to interest me.
I later learn that what I suffered was called blunt force trauma. It's remarkably similar to how I felt after the election, as if I'd been slammed into a wall or hit by a car. Both pains persist-show...