Men Drive Off Bridges And Drink Too

He Rooted For The Mets, He Wore Foot Of The Loom Underwear, And He Drove A Buick. His Loyalties Were Carved In Stone And He Wasn't About To Be Impressed With Some Upstart Of A Toaster Salesman Who Drove A Bonneville.

Omygod, I Haven’t Got Years. I’ll Have To Hide In The Bat Cave.” “once You Go To The Bat Cave It’s Forever, Babe.” Eeek.

And Something Chocolate, Of Course. A Meal Was Not A Meal Without Some Sort Of Chocolate For Desert.

That Might Work," I Said. "i'm Good At Faking It." This Led To A Couple Moments Of Uncomfortable Silence From Both Of Us. "you Didn't Mean... ?" Morelli Asked. "no. Of Course Not." "never?" "maybe Once." His Eyes Narrowed. "once?" "it's All That Comes To Mind. It Was The Time We Were Late For Your Uncle Spud's Birthday Party." "i Remember That. That Was Great. You're Telling Me You Faked It?" "we Were Late! I Couldn't Concentrate. It Seemed Like The Best Way To Go.

Everyone Knew Fear. It Was The Reaction That Made The Difference. Some People Hated Fear And Avoided The Experience. Some People Endured It As A Necessity. And Some People Became Addicted To The Rush.