The New Yorker

“Wake up, Larry—you’re missing the pregame.”

“Look, just nuke them and build something terrific.”

“You can always tell which guys aren’t trapped in long-term contracts.”

“Hey, it’s Christmas somewhere.”

“Roy, if you can hear me, the Mets are twenty games over .500 and they have a good shot at clinching the N.L. East.”

“Candice, your eyes are like two crystal-blue pools of habitual judgment.”

“Your posture is better, but the whole office calls you Professor Bouncy Jerk. F.Y.I.”

“A heart would be great, sure, but what I’d really like is a working human penis.”

“What ever happened to cement shoes and the Hudson River, slowpoke?”

“Lady, what’s going on down there is an affront to the very idea of boilers.”

“Darling Elizabeth! How I long to hold you betwixt my giant industrial clamps.”

“Somebody tweeted.”

“Business is terrible.”

“Could I please go back to the rack now?”