Donna

“No one could tell me not to eat an entire cake—not my mom, not Santa, not God—no one. It was my cake and everyone else could go fuck themselves.”
― Allie Brosh, Hyperbole and a Half

“Naughty John, Naughty John, does his work with his apron on. Cuts your throat and takes your bones, sells 'em off for a coupla stones.”
― Libba Bray, The Diviners

“Mom!" Becca stared at her. "You think—you think I'm dating Michael?"
Her mom stared back at her, obviously thrown. "You're not?"
This would be hilarious if her mom didn't look so serious.
"Oh my god," cried Becca. "Are you kidding? Michael is the last person I would ever—oh my god. I wouldn't go out with him if someone paid me. Ugh, that's just—"
"You know I can hear you, right?" called Michael.”
― Brigid Kemmerer, Storm

“So are the stories true?” asked Hunter. “Depends,” Becca hedged. “What have you heard?”
“That you knocked two seniors on their asses on the soccer field, then flipped off the coach.”
“Absolutely true,” said Becca, deadpan.”
― Brigid Kemmerer