shuffleboil “I’ll try to find you some and I’ll bring them to you.”

“So I said, ‘Many happy returns of the day to you.’ And she looked at me funny, like I said something wrong. I’ll just never get the hang of it.”

“If you think that was something, you should have seen the armadillo!”

“I used to be that way.”

“Say that again. Say that again. Come on, say that again. Do it. Say it again. I want to hear it.

“It makes me feel awful, sure, but a good awful.”

“I’ll never forget the sight of it. It’s in front of me when I sit down to my oatmeal in the morning and when I take off my boots at night. It’s lurking beneath my eyelids when I try to sleep at night. I’ve had to accept it as an unwelcome, but hovering, companion.”

“I just can’t stop thinking about it. And that’s okay, because when I do, I’m gliding high, it’s like my feet are made of cotton and I’m walking on marshmallows.”

“Do you have any idea? I suppose not. It’s like living in purgatory, but without the comfort of universal order to sate me during my aimlessness.”

“There used to be a girl who believed in all the fibs that life used to tell her and I often wonder what happened to that girl and why she can’t come back to wipe me off the map.”

“I didn’t come here for any reason you could understand. There’s so much you don’t seem attuned to.”