Character: Judd Foxman

And good sex there are many components, and technology is not the main one.

- Horry, all have been in the past. You were not yourself.
He nods, blows smoke in the black of night, watching the rings dissolve in the amber light of a streetlamp.
- I still can not imagine, ' he says.

Sixty seconds of our acquaintance I was able to laugh this girl twice already, and I, having read "Playboy", knew that beauties like these men, who know how to laugh. Well, of course, these men have to amuse them after you provide your lady multiple orgasm hard and greedy member of a length of not less than twenty-two inches, and aboard a private plane.

Catching his wife in bed with another, it is easier to calm the soul shot from a Magnum 357 caliber, not scientific research. But I knew that the inevitable questions. <...> But there, in the bedroom, I was tormented by one question, a matter of life and death, and the answer I wanted immediately. My question was the most primitive and was: what happens if you vanish up the ass of Wade Boulanger this strawberry-chocolate cake with burning candles - thirty-three and one on happiness? Turned out to be cool.

- Well, why can't we be friends? 'she says.
You're sleeping with my boss. It's a pretty good reason.
She closes her eyes, calling for help all the bottomless patience that it takes to deal with me. <...>
You're right, I'm not a Saint, she says, his whole appearance indicating that I'm not right circle, and she's a Saint, but she's bored with me. - I was very bad, and the desire to be happy again I did the unforgivable. I ruined our lives and you hate me for it.

I exist in different dimensions and have no idea where my real place.

And then we fell silent, and there was one of those moments truly dead silence when you hear how spins beneath your feet, the planet, and you stand, and you gradually start to feel dizzy.

Cheating, like any other crime, generates a lot of evidence, evidence is a byproduct of infidelity, as the oxygen in the plants or shit from people.

Many people in the days of adversity and sorrow are ready to believe in God, but I'm not one of them. However, when life turns into a cruel mockery, too sophisticated to be a mere coincidence, I still believe that there is no God has not done. Who, if not He able to force us to drink your own shit?

Jen is allergic to phrases of the type "I'm sorry" or "excuse me". Her tongue shrivels up to say that. She is content with sloppy "clear", "clear", "I hear you" or better yet: "Okay, let's leave this conversation". The last line I especially love.

... about our neighbors, we know only one thing: that nothing we do not know about them.

Bad news are in place.

Thank you, mommy. I always appreciate unsolicited advice, no matter how useless they may be.

Here live-live, and you think that there is an eternity. And take your father and die. You think you have a happy marriage, and it turns out that your wife is sleeping with your boss. Do you think your brother - shit, and suddenly find that you yourself are the shit. All this is at least quite informative.