I'd tried to straighten him out, but there's only so much you can do for a person who thinks Auschwitz is a brand of beer.

People in trailers were canned and labeled much like the apple juice down at the plant, stamped with ingredients for all the world to see: chicken fried steak, overcooked vegetables, no working knowledge of any major Italian movie directors--the list went on and on.

There seemed to be some correlation between devotion to God and a misguided zeal for marshmallows.

The thought of killing myself had slowed me down to five miles per hour. The thought of killing someone else stopped me completely.

Seven beers followed by two Scotches and a thimble of marijuana and it's funny how sleep comes all on it's own.

Why is American beer served cold? So you can tell it from urine