Ms. Smartarse > Recent Status Updates

Before I could say anything more, Mrs. Dane Calthrop nodded her head at me and said in a quick, confident tone: 'I'm going to see about it right away.'
And she went out of the window again.



I imagine those are ceiling to floor windows, but I can't help picturing something like the above. XD

Yes, yes, a most terrible affair, but where's Miss Marple...

I have a feeling that things are about to change, too bad I've now lost every shred of interest I've had. Dropping this...

It seems that this system of controlled training has yielded good results internationally, being used by the best teams in the world like Russia and China. Americans have personal coaches and hold training camps just one month before any important competition.



Yeah... bet you're eating your words these days, eh?

Mr. Ţopescu told me always to talk about what I saw on the screen. I, however, couldn't help but look at our girls and describe what they were doing regardless of the fact that gymnasts from other countries were on the screen.

... which is why I NEVER watch Romanian gymnastics commentary these days.

Mr. Ioachim Oana, our team physician , who gave me the pill, has been heard by a multitude of commissions...



You make it seem like officials were sneakily spying on him, or something...

the perfect score had never been shown on a scoreboard since the 1982 Olympic Games in Barcelona



Breaking News: a 6-year-old somehow managed to sneack into the women's senior floor final... and WOOOOON!
That's 1992, you nincompoop!!

I had emotions, but also a huge trust in myself.

*sigh* You can totally tell what the rest of my updates will look like, right?

No longer funny, tragic even... which was unexpected. Yet I still don't care...

Before going to the hospital he called and asked, "Good day, did Simina Raducan give birth?"



Good day?! What is this, Downton Abbey? Damned crappy translators.

It's funny, I grant you that. But...

Reacting 101:
"You have to sit up to goggle appropriately. Lying down, you just look like you were run over by a cattle stampede."

"Hold on. A year ago you told me the cozy [mystery genre] was dead."
"I didn't say dead, Christopher. I said Cozy was suffering malaise."
"I'm pretty sure you pronounced it dead."
"Not at all. Cozy was in ICU. Cozy was receiving necessary medical attention. Happily Cozy has survived and is on the mend."

'Now the heroines of cozy mysteries were all young, sexually active professional women (though, seriously, some of those jobs! Sudoku champs, wedding planners, NASCAR drivers, genealogists!)'


...unlike a PR-exec-turned-yoga-studio-owner eh? Don't even get me started on the 'sexually active' aspect. Hmpf!

"Rachel, we'll have to continue this later. J.X. wants a word."
"I'm going to need more than a word," J.X. said.
"Of course," Rachel said. "Just remember to take notes."
"No worries there. He usually repeats himself several times."



... and these two actually like each other, right?

Step 1: tell her you can't forget her
Step 2: kiss the living daylights out of her
Step 3:...stop to ask your music player to start Atomic Kitten's Whole Again



I'm guessing Helena Bonham Carter will be popping up soon, instructing her to find all this "Really romantic", eh?

Step 1: tell her you can't forget her
Step 2: kiss the living daylight out of her
Step 3:... ask your stereo to play Atomic Kitten's Whole Again



I'm guessing Helena Bonham Carter will be popping up soon, telling her that she find all this "Really romantic"?

Way too ruin the mood buddy.

"Hi, I am Eddie, I have moved here yesterday," I said trying to drag her attention away from her cell phone.
Sure enough she raised her shabby blue eyes from the display, and briefly looked over my face, my winter jacket, and my ratty jeans.
"Beanie" she murmured then.
Excuse me? Had she just introduced herself?

This is what happens when you read realistic murder-mysteries: you just KNEW that jogger you saw in the park looked shady.

Visit Cornwall, y'all!

... this is what happens when you're set on tackling your NetGalley backlog but one of your favorite book series comes out with a new installment.

One of my relationship pet-peeves is labeling every woman a gold-digger. I don't deny that there may be such people, but in general most people aren't like that.

But when you put all this into perspective, throw in an unfortunate car crash, and a failed exam... I'll be here sniffling in sympathy, and offering free hugs.

Expectations: "I knew what was waiting for me: a sort of 3-star hotel, with 3 meals per day, an top of the line fitness room, a few courses and plenty of free time."

Reality: "Climbing up to the third floor, I find dorm no.5 with its door wide open. Through the thick cloud of dust originating from the students beating their mattresses, I noticed 10 metallic bed frames."

You should ask, 'Who stands to lose? Who stands to gain?[...] But sometimes you should follow the arrogance... You should look for those who can't believe that the law would ever catch them, who believe that they act out of a right that the rest of us do not have. The job of the officer of the law is to let them know that they are wrong!'

"I couldn't help hearing all that garbage, commander, on account of how I was listening at the door as per section five of the gentleman's gentlema's code."

One day I thought, how hard can writing be? After all, most of the words are going to be and, the and I and it, and so on, and there's a huge number to choose from, so a lot of the work has already been done for you. That was fifty-seven books ago. It seems to have worked.

'You need to be protected by a hired killer, do you?'
'In point of fact, sir', said Willikins smoothly,'I am employed by Commander Vimes as a genteleman's gentleman, and I require this crossbow because sometimes his socks fight back. '

[The lady's maid], both he and his wife believed, had an understanding with [the butler], although exactly what it was they understood remained a speculation.