“Aw man, she ain't nothing but a thang.” “She wouldn't give you her number right?” “Man, I ain't sweatin' that chick. She ain't nothing but trouble.”

Between residuary sobs she drank it like water, sitting up, Robert Loo on the bed's edge, his finger-tips on the base of the glass.

OCaml’s big selling point is its “type system,” which is something like Microsoft Word’s grammar checker, except that instead of just putting a squiggly green line underneath code it thinks is wrong, it won’t let you run it.

Myers may still be having fun with his shagaholic spy, as well as the rest of the characters he plays, but he's the only one still laughing.