Bite Me, Harry Potter.

My Shoulders Sagged. Really, Is It Too Much To Ask That I Be Able To Come Home From A Long Day Of Work And Relax? Oh, No. I Have To Come Home And Read A Bunch Of Letters Written To The Love Of My Life By His Fiancée, Who, If I Am Correct, Had Him Killed A Hundred And Fifty Years Ago. Then, As If That Is Not Bad Enough, He Wants Me To Explain The Vietnam War.

Check Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself.

The First Thing We Did Was Change All The Clocks So That Her Siblings Thought It Was Bedtime, Then Put Them To Bed Ignoring Their Plaintive Protests That They Were Not Tired. They Wept Themselves To Sleep Soon Enough.

You And Me?” I Let Out A Stunned Bark Of Laughter. “there Is No You And Me.” “that’s What You Think,” Chaz Says, Tugging On His Coat. “and I’ll Be Damned If I’m Going To Wait Around Until You Figure Out That Isn’t True.” “fine,” I Say “i’m Not Asking You To, Am I?” “no.” Chaz Is Smiling… But Not Like He’s Happy. “but You Would If You Had The Slightest Idea What Was Good For You.” And With That, He Yanks Open The Door And Storms Through It, Slamming It Closed Behind Him With Enough Force To Cause The Windowpanes To Rattle. And Then He’s Gone.

There Is A Difference Between Listening And Hearing, Just As There Is A Difference Between Seeing And Knowing.