If Finn had brought me something with bubbles, I probably would have performed explicit favors for him involving feathers and chocolate pudding.
Nick and I are putting on a puppet show, Coop,” I responded dryly. “Please, Lord, don’t let that be a position I haven’t heard of,” Cooper said, shuddering.
Love? Love is for children and poor people...
Do you want to take a bath?” “Do I get the rubber fish?” He shook his head. “No, Herr Scalesnstuff is mine, but I’ll let you borrow Dr. Squeakenstein.
Dozens of freshly sharpened pencils were aimed straight at my chest. That did even things out a bit. “Let me ask you something. When you set about to make something like that, what exactly goes through your head?” He shrugged. “Mostly, ‘boobs, beer, this will be cool, boobs, beer.’ ” I bit my lip, because laughing didn’t seem appropriate at the moment. “Well, you’re honest.
When Gilbert needed money for graduate school, I sold a kidney on the black market for tuition.” “We can grow those back?” I asked. “It wasn’t my kidney.” “And now we’re back to the disturbing territory I’m comfortable with.
He tried to call himself Zed Oakendesk, after watching the Hobbit one too many times, but Bael refused because a man shouldn’t come up with his own nickname.
Of course, at the reading of Aunt Jettie’s will, Grandma Ruthie was handed an envelope containing a carefully folded high-resolution picture of a baboon’s butt. That pretty much summed up their relationship.
Jettie was the one who undid some of the damage from my mother’s “birds and bees” talk, entitled “Nice Girls Don’t Do That. Ever.
Anyone can show up for stuff like graduations and birthdays. Only the people who truly love you will help you move.
If she wasn’t absolutely sure that it would turn out to be an emotional disaster of Pompeii proportions, she would take Sonja’s advice and climb that man like a tree. For science.
Sonja Fong didn’t need magical powers. She had formidable wi-fi and an extremely questionable browser history.
Sometimes apathy hurts just as much as cruelty. At least when someone is yelling, you can imagine that they care.
Clarissa apparently believed that if you didn’t have to roll a guest out of your house like the blueberry girl in Willy Wonka, you were a bad hostess.
Sometimes life just stinks like a bass in your couch,” Stan said. “It’s not fair. And sometimes it doesn’t get better. And sometimes there’s no reason for it. It just stinks. You can either lean into it and try to ride it out, or you can fold under the weight.
Should she roll down the window? Was it safe? At this point, it would be rude not to, but she’d always read that a woman traveling alone should ignore their instincts to be polite and err on the side of not letting an enormous man pull her through a van window and onto the human trafficking market.
And then they watched The Bridges of Madison County,” Jillian added. Zed gasped. “That’s like The Notebook for old people!
Bael realized his earlier panic feeling had been replaced by something much warmer and sweeter. And he would never, ever tell Zed about it.
I may be dead, but I’m still me.
I’m ancient, not outdated.