It Occurs To Me That Cricket Is

The Man In The Shop Peered Disapprovingly At Evie Through The Glass. She Pumped Her Arms And Legs Up And Down In Imitation Of A Marching Band, Gave The Man A Salute, And Continued Her Meandering Walk To The Museum.

You Don't Know Me, Dude," He Says, Not Smiling This Time. Gonzo Examines His Cards, Prepping For His Next Move. "people Always Think That They Know Other People, But They Don't. Not Really. I Mean, Maybe They Know Things About Them, Like They Won't Eat Doughnuts Or They Like Action Movies Or Whatever. But They Don't Know What Their Friends Do In Their Rooms Alone At Night Or What Happened To Them When They Were Kids Or If They Feel ****ed Up For No Reason At All.

Harold Brodie Is A Louse And A Lothario Who Cheats At Cards And Has A Different Girl In His Rumble Seat Every Week. That Coupe Of His Is Pos-i-tute-ly A Petting Palace. And He’s A Terrible Kisser To Boot.” Evie’s Parents Stared In Stunned Silence. “or So I’ve Heard.

Please, I'm A Transgender Former Boy-bander. You Think I Don't Know How To Defend Myself?

I Wouldn’t Expect You To Get It, Daisy. You Don’t Look At Anything Besides Photoplay—and Even Then Somebody’s Gotta Explain The Pictures To You.” Daisy’s Mouth Hung Open In Outrage. “well, I Never!” “yeah, That’s What You Tell All Your Fellas, But The Rest Of Us Aren’t Buying It. Go Away, Now, Daisy. Shoo, Little Fly!