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Phin didn’t have old friends, as far as I knew. And he didn’t fish, either.
People tended to think they were the heroes of their own stories.
I’m more of an NPC myself
Katie stood, did a slow stretch, and rubbed her head, undoing the bun so her black hair fell to shoulder-length.
Phin clenched his jaw. “Did you tell her where we lived?” “Of course not. Think I’m an idiot?” “Everyone thinks you’re an idiot.” “Yeah? So why am I a member of Mensa?” “You cheated on the qualification exam.” “I certainly did. Put one over on those stuck-up, snooty, intellinazis. I fooled smart people, ergo I can’t be an idiot. It’s simple math. Or something.”
“You’d hit anything with two tits and a pulse.” “Untrue. The pulse is optional. And so are tits.” He glanced at the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer poster hanging on the wall. Harry walked last year, and had actually helped raise over thirty thousand dollars for the cause. “Boobs don’t make a woman sexy, Jackie. Her heart and courage are what makes her sexy.” “Stop acting noble, McGlade. You played the caring guy card to get laid.” “And I did. Four times, to be exact. But who’s counting?
McGlade had a gigantic gun, a .44 Magnum, in his lap. He was still smiling. “That’s a lot of firepower,” Katie said. “Overcompensating for something?” Harry winked. “You’re welcome to discover that for yourself.” “And what would you do if I actually took you up on that offer?” “I’d make love to you in a rapid, clumsy fashion, disregarding your needs entirely, and then I’d send you out for some food.” Katie had to give him points for honesty.
Do you know I once caught syphilis from a toilet seat?” “So stop having sex with toilet seats.”
There’s an old joke that life is 100% fatal, and no one gets out alive. No one gets out unhurt, either. Everybody gets wounded. Physically, and emotionally.
“You and the idiot need to stop using the Internet like rank amateurs.”
Idk why this makes me lagh everytime I read it but it is hilarious to me
I called Tequila’s room. “Yeah?” “It’s Jack. I’m thinking about going out for a beer.” “Yeah?” “Thought you might want to join me.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.” “No.” “No?” “I’m watching Toy Story 2.”
K wasn’t acting like a friend, or a mentor. He was acting like her mother. Or some creepy, deranged uncle.
Mistakes were made.
“I’m not a role model, Jack. I’m a cautionary tale. Which is a lot more fun.”
“Yeah yeah, Katie, heroin, arrested, got it. I can’t find any bro hammocks on Google. I found ham hocks. Yikes.” He put his fake hand over Herb’s eyes. “Don’t look, bro hog. It could be someone you know.
“Birds of a feather, Lucy.” K stared into space. “And the flock is coming.” “Maybe we should get the flock out of here,” Lucy said. K didn’t react. “I said—” “Don’t repeat yourself, Lucy. Once is enough.”
That didn’t make me feel good. It made me feel quite the opposite. Here was a group of people willing to lay down their lives for me. And I was a self-interested Judas goat, leading them all to the slaughter.
Just looked up what a Judas goat was (never heard this term before this) and all I can say is what thee actual fuck...
