“It was the longest day I’ve heard of outside of Irish literature.”
Bam said, ” Only if you promise to quit talking about girls in front of me because when you talk about girls, Maholtz, it makes me want to hide every girl in the world in a castle you can’t get to and I don’t have a castle much less one you can’t get to and even if I did have a castle you couldn’t get to, it wouldn’t be big enough for all those girls, so promise?’
I said, I don’t promise. You know I don’t promise. If you promise it means that every time you don’t promise it’s okey for you to be lying. Have faith in my word.
Even if I wrote a good love poem by accident, the best a good love poem could be was nice, and it wasn’t that I didn’t want to be nice to June, just that… what? Who wouldn’t be nice to her? That was that. I wanted to do something someone else wouldn’t, preferably something that someone else couldn’t. No one thing seemed good enough though.
And than I remembered the clock in the gym. How everyone said it couldn’t be smashed.