Fate always pays attention to what you think, then slams it up your fucken ass. — DBC Pierre

'And here's the winning ticket,' says Gibbons. 'Green forty-seven!' A sluggish frenzy breaks through the tent. The kid stops, and drags a mangled pink ticket from his pocket. He squints at it, like it might turn fucken green.

"We could turn your situation around three hundred and sixty degrees..."

'Vernon, are you all right?' That's my ole mom. I swell with involuntary warmth.