« I can't find boots that I like, » she whined. « They are either too hooker or ugly. »

« If boots don't make a girl look like a hooker, then they are ugly, » he replied. « There's a reason anything between calf and mid-thigh are called fuck-me boots. A hooker should be hotter and sexier than any girl you could see or meet at a bar, bar mitzvah, or social club. Otherwise, why pay? »

« I like that the choices are bar, bar mitzvah, and social club, » she observed.

They also teach LOL 103 at ROFL University in LOLheim.

It was just like Christmas. I finished urinating on the Mother Church, then we headed over to Fenway for to do some trespassing.

Snowflakes fell and swirled in the breeze, their eddies making that ugly fluorescent light seem pretty, so pretty.

The crash of duckpins resounded through the night, and hipsters flashed jazz hands at one another.

It was just like Christmas. Not one insalata 3ndy could be found.

Sometimes creepy shit happens, like a gay black man eating quiche and talking on the phone about The Prestige or a British man sending me a box of strozzapreti and a colander almost a year after I wrote this, then turning out to be the same man who is rumored to buy Laranejeira Prateada because of the suffusion of e's.