The trouble with aggressive nonsmokers is that they feel they are doing you a favor by not allowing you to smoke. They seem to think that one day you'll look back and thank them for those precious fifteen seconds they just added to your life. What they don't understand is that those are just fifteen more seconds you can spend hating their guts and plotting revenge.

Daemon laughed "I'm only at the service of one person in particular"My cheeks flamed as I scooted my chair over. "You are not servicing me in any way."He leaned in, closing my newly gained distance. "Not yet.""Oh, come on, Daemon I'm right here." Dee frowned. "You're about to make me lose my appetite.""Like that will ever happen." Lisa retorted with an eye roll.

It's a sweet setup, I'll admit. For all that the maids STILL show up each day with jumbo crucifixes, jumpy movements, and red eyes from crying over the short straw that drew them vampire duty.' Yesterday, she'd just stopped herself from raising her clenched hands above her head and chasing one of them around the room groaning, 'I vant to suck your blood.

There were, however, a few exceptions.One was Norma Dodsworth, the poet, who had not unpleasantly drunk but had been sensible enough to pass out before any violent action proved necessary. He had been deposited, not very gently, on the lawn, where it was hoped that a hyena would give him a rude awakening. For all practical purposes he could, therefore, be regarded as absent.

You know how I think they choose people for Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for now reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains.

You know, poets and songwriters have long known that people like repetition. You know, poets and songwriters have long known that people like repetition. I guess when I say people, I mean everyone but my Grandfather. He hated anything that was so monotonous as repetition. That’s why he loathed walking so much. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, and on and on.

Hatsuharu Sohma: [after tripping Kyo] If I hadn't had tripped you, you wouldn't have stopped now would you.[addressing the audience]Hatsuharu Sohma: By the way what I just did was very dangerous. And if it had been anyone but Kyo they probably would have been hurt pretty badly, so don't try it at home.Kyo Sohma: Don't try it here and who are you even talking to?

Then I say, "Let's go and brush our teeth." So Lola says, "But Charlie, I can't brush my teeth because somebody is using my tooth." "But who would use your toothbrush?" I ask. Lola says "I think that lion. I saw a lion with my toothbrush and now he's brushing his teeth with it." "But it isn't this your toothbrush Lola?" "Oh," says Lola, "he must be using yours.

Bombs Away!" he yelled, swooping low over StregaSchloss. He saw little figures on the ground fleeing from the large green projectile that was speeding their way. "And a direct hit, if I'm not mistaken," he observed to himself. With a tremendous slapping sound, Ffup's digestive overload landed on a human target. There was a scream, a ghastly choking sound, and then silence.

As my grandfather once famously shouted, in a drunken stupor, “You can’t have fish tacos if you still have the hook in your mouth!” And while I have no idea what he meant, or how it’s relevant, I tell that story to any indigenous Mexican I meet who doesn’t speak English. Interestingly, they offer the wisest response possible: they simply nod and smile.

[The American President] has to take all sorts of abuse from liars and demagogues.… The people can never understand why the President does not use his supposedly great power to make ’em behave. Well, all the President is, is a glorified public relations man who spends his time flattering, kissing and kicking people to get them to do what they are supposed to do anyway.

I moved to assist, but never got the chance. there was some pretty violent banging for a minute, and then a tearing sound. Finally the stall door flew open, and Ray's shirtless body emerged and started bitch-slapping everything in sight.His aim was off, probably due to the difficulty of having his eyes on the other side of the room, but he made up for it with sheer determination.

Hey Mason, wipe the drool off your face. If you're going to think about me naked, do it on your own time." [...]"This is my time, Hathaway. I'm leading today's session." "Oh yeah?" I retorted. "Huh. Well, I guess this is a good time to think about me naked, then." "It's always a good a time to think about you naked," added someone nearby, breaking the tension further.

A brick is what the aliens gave me to communicate with them. It’s easy to operate. Just go to a party, or any crowded location, place the brick on your head, and stand perfectly still until they open up lines of communication. If you talk to Egbok Wangor, tell him I want the twenty bucks he owes me—and I’ll even give you a twenty percent collector’s fee.


Wait, is this a nice-ish way of telling me we had sex and I was lousy? That's how you can tell I'm inexperienced? Because, if so, that's just rude. And what were you doing at Shenanigans? And how did you find me on the road?"Gabriel looked wounded. "To answer your questions in order: The only body fluid I exchanged with you is blood--""That's very comforting, thank you.