I Don't Seem To Fit To Associate

What's A Mediator You Ask? Oh, A Person Who Acts As A Liason Between The Living And The Dead. Hey, Wait A Minute...what're You Doing With That Strait Jacket?-suze Simon's Imagination

You Know In Sixth Grade, When They Made All Of Us Girls Go Into This Other Room And Watch A Video About Getting Our Periods And Stuff? I Bet While We Were Gone, The Boys Were Watching A Video About How To Look At Each Other In That Infuriating Way.

There’s No Accountability Anymore, Pierce, No One Holds Anyone Accountable For What They Do. It’s Always Someone Else’s Fault. Usually People Just Blame The Victim.

Jesse, Who Had Not Stirred The Whole Time From The Spot He'd Been Standing, Confident I Could Handle Cheryl Myself, Was Grinning. "it's Every Girl's Dream To Guy To Go To Prom With The Guy She Loves?" He Echoed, Not Just One, But Both Inky Black Eyebrows Raised. "don't Start With Me," I Said. I Tried To Hide My Suddenly Flaming Cheeks By Scraping Away What Was Left Of The Cannolis, And Replacing Them With The Contents Of An Upended Bag Of Chocolate Chip Cookies. "i Have Things To Do.

Sorry, Bex," Jason Said "you Don't Have The Recognizable Facial Characteristics - Such As A Huge Chin, Or A Large Amount Of Real Estate Between The Eyes - That Would Merit The Bestowing Of A Criminal Mastermind Nickname Such As Lockjaw Or Walleye. Whereas Crazytop Here...well, Just Look At Her." "atleast I Can Blow-dry My Hair Straight," I Pointed Out. "which Is More Than What I Can Say For Your Nose, Hawkface.