Men do everything that men do, from waging war to reading books, for one purpose only: to get laid.

Get off of my shoulders. The foundation has been laid, now its time for you to build on it and get to work.

The man was rude, crude, and inappropriate. I was taken with him the moment I walked in the door, and I knew the first moment I saw him that it was going to be raw, it was going to be ugly, and I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it.

And though nobody has been dumb enough to say anything close to "You need to get laid" to my face, I resent the idea that anyone might think, if they knew my history, that I'd be slightly different by virtue of having a penis-however briefly-inside me. That is some phallocentric bullshit if I ever heard any. Hypothetical penises don't make the rules. I make the rules. I love the rules.

Guys are a lot like kitchen floors – lay ‘em right the first time and you can walk all over them for years.

The guy snarled out a string of profanity describing his night with Conn's mother."Sounds about right," Conn said, but Matt didn't miss the glint in Conn's eye. "She's been dead for twenty years, but dead's probably the only way you get laid.