I Love Everybody (and Other Atrocious Lies): True Tales of a Loudmouth Girl

Books are to me as homemade tattoos are to an inmate. Can't get enough of them.

I just might kill someone in my next job, and I'll be honest here, I couldn't do the time. Really. No way. I couldn't share a room with four other people, let alone poop in front of them. I hate sharing a room and a bathroom with my husband, and I even have eminent domain over him. Prison would never work out: I'd get picked last for all of the gangs, I'd never get included in the escape plans, it would be just like high school

I’m not big on meeting new people, especially new people I’m never going to see again. There’s all kinds of uninteresting, insincere banter, I have to pretend to be a nice person, and because 96 percent of the world’s population are dim bulbs, odds are excellent that I’ll be stuck in the middle of a Spontaneous Freak Encounter.

knock, knock. who's there? it's cancer. cancer who? cancer of the section right behind your belly button that you have been trying to pass off as the pinch of ovulation. but it's not. it's cancer. it's me.

It's a well-known fact that black sheep should never have lambs. You know what you get when you take a black sheep and give it a lamb? You get a thing called "supervised visitation" that's what.

if another person got on that elevator to travel eight feet upward, I couldn’t have been responsible for what I did. I had been pushed to the limit. The next time it happens, I swore to myself, I’m going to reach out and pinch that One Floorer and say, “You get out there and walk! You won’t come close to burning a fraction of the three thousand calories you ate at lunch, but maybe by the time you reach the landing, you’ll pass out from exhaustion and get to go home for the rest of the day, you lazy little asshole, because that’s exactly what you want anyway!

Are you kidding I was raised Catholic, my mom just came back from a Saint Francis Pilgrimage in Italy and bought a huge statue to prove it, big as you. Big as you. Catholics aren't like that, they can be a little slutty at times, sure and there's the pedophilia, but they aren't allowed to be strippers! It's not allowed!

How could I compete with that? Candies and toys! I had string and glue and some very complicated dynamics going on at my station. I mean, when I was assigned to that table, no one happened to mention that it was a simmering hotbed of political unrest concerning the lower case r. A wicked web indeed.

Sure, I'd like to lose some weight, but a tapeworm is the last way I'd like to do it, except becoming a prisoner of war.

...Things in my environment had gotten a little bit out of my control, as things sometimes do. I mean, we can't control every little facet of our world all of the time...