Honey, A Man Can't Keep His Gun

At The Other End Of The Room, Grandma Had The Lid Up On Larry Lipinski. She Was Standing One Foot On A Folding Chair, One Foot On The Edge Of The Casket, And She Was Taking Pictures With A Disposable Camera.

When I Was Six Years Old I Sprinkled Sugar On My Head, Convinced Myself It Was Pixie Dust, Wished Myself Invisible, And Walked Into The Boys' Bathroom At School.

I Hung My Head. Ranger Was Next On The List. “yo,” Ranger Said When He Answered. “small Problem.” “no Kidding. Your Car Just Went Off The Screen.” “it Sort Of Burned Up.” Silence. “and You Know That Keypad You Gave Me? It Was In The Car.” “babe.

I Got Out Of The Elevator And Confronted Mr. Wexler. “killing Is Wrong.” “we Kill Chickens,” Mr. Wexler Said. “we Kill Cows. We Kill Trees. So Big Deal, We Kill Some Drug Dealers.” It Was Hard To Argue With That Kind Of Logic Because I Like Cows And Chickens And Trees Much Better Than Drug Dealers.

From The Look On Your Face, I'd Say You Know Him." I Nodded. "sold Him A Cannoli When I Was In High School." Connie Grunted. "honey, Half Of All The Women In New Jersey Have Sold Him Their Cannoli