You Made Your Own Jean Shorts...with A

Kill Me, Doug. Just Kill Me Now. Put Me Out Of My Misery.” “christ, Kincaid, What Did You Say To Him?” Murmured Doug. “well,” I Told Doug, “i Ripped On His Fans And On How Long It Takes For His Books To Come Out.” Doug Stared At Me, His Expectations Exceeded. “then I Said—not Knowing Who He Was—that I’d Be Seth Mortensen’s Love Slave In Exchange For Advanced Copies Of His Books.

Impossible Situations Are Our Specialty.

Well. Like I Said, I Dont Want To Fight Anymore. I Dont Want Us To Hate Each Other. And ... Well ... I Squeezed My Eyes Shut And Then Opened Them. No Matter How I Fee About Us ... I Want You To Be Happy

Hey Mason, Wipe The Drool Off Your Face. If You're Going To Think About Me Naked, Do It On Your Own Time." [...] "this Is My Time, Hathaway. I'm Leading Today's Session." "oh Yeah?" I Retorted. "huh. Well, I Guess This Is A Good Time To Think About Me Naked, Then." "it's Always A Good A Time To Think About You Naked," Added Someone Nearby, Breaking The Tension Further.

Something Clenched In My Chest, And For A Moment, The Whole World Narrowed Down To The Green Of His Eyes.