I Swear I've Never Met A Man

I'm Honestly Not A Big Fan Of Pitching Things. I'm A Firm Believer Of Letting The Product Speak For Iteself.

I’d Heard He Had Started A Fistfight In One Of The Seedier Local Taverns Because Someone Had Insisted On Saying The Word “utilize” Instead Of “use.

Abenthy Gave Me An Appraising Look. I'd Been Waiting For It. It Was The Look That Said, "you Don't Sound As Young As You Look." I Hoped He'd Come To Grips With It Fairly Soon. It Gets Tiresome Being Spoken To As If You Are A Child, Even If You Happen To Be One.

That Was Another Lesson I Had Learned Perhaps Too Well: People Meant Pain.

She Reached Up And Lay Her Hand On My Cheek. "you Have The Sweetest Face," She Said, Looking At Me Dreamily. "it's Like The Perfect Kitchen." I Fought Not To Smile. This Was The Delirium. She'd Fade In And Out Of It Before The Profound Exhaustion Dragged Her Down Into Unconsciousness. If You See Someone Spouting Nonsense To Themselves In An Alleyway In Tarbean, Odds Are They're Not Actually Crazy, Just A Sweet-eater Deranged By Too Much Denner. "a Kitchen?" "yes," She Said. "everything Matches And The Sugar Bowl Is Right Where It Should Be.