Oh my God," my husband said with a gasp, reading further. "He beat three men into unconsciousness? Alone? What is this, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Rapist? Does he fly and run across treetops? How long...

I'm telling you, every house with filthy windows has a pervert inside. Animals. Dirty minds have dirty windows. Everyone knows that. But I wouldn't worry about the Super Rapist if I were you,...

Frankly, if I walk into your house and you don't have two hundred books somewhere that you haven't read yet, I don't trust you.

Other than that, employ this rule: A book gets fifty pages. If you aren't dying to get back to it the next day, move on over to the next one.

Let me tell you about Tidy. She's smug, self-important, and frankly, just an asshole.

In the Anthropologie mirror, I saw wrinkles, dents, flaps, bumps, and something that caused me to say to myself, I hope that's a tumor and not a horn.

I realized that you don't try on a pair of pants, fart in them, and then put them back on the shelf, and the same rough politeness applied here, too. Plain and simple, I bled on it, I bought it.

How bad do you want cancer? Bad enough to eat a rainbow of it? Personally, I think the red cancer would be the worst, but anything you swallow with artificial hues in it is going to pop a tumor out of...

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.

There were times when, in her fury, she was convinced that she needed to drive down to Phoenix and let him know just how much of a bastard she thought he was, that he needed to know just what he had...

Poor Holly. There she was, completely unaware while millions of minute mucus particles, each carrying the flu virus, exploded into the air like rain. It was their germ mission to land on her and try...

If you really want to be afraid for mankind, you don't even need to know who Paul Ryan is. All you have to do is lurk for five minutes by the pharmacy.

If there was a National Tweaker Olympics, Oregon would bring home the gold in every category {Living in Squalor, Poisoning Your Neighbors, Developing Facial Scabs, Public Aggression, Theft of Useless...

Weddings, I began to understand, were vile, filthy things when they ran amuck.

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...

Oh, boy. Now you see what you've done, Monica Lewinsky, you stupid, stupid tart, I thought. Because of you, I have to explain to my Nana, while she's in a hospital bed with an enlarged gallbladder,...

Be honest with yourself; set the alarm for the time the Real You will get up, not the Ambitious You, because the Ambitious You doesn't really exist.

As a result of that experience, I do think all Anthropologies should provide a courtesy volcano just outside their dressing rooms so every woman who is revealed as completely inadequate by the...