Ms. Smartarse > Recent Status Updates

As far as Talking to Emma is concerned, it seem we get asked the following:
"Do you have Talking to mom?"
"Do you have Talking to Ana?"
"Hello. Talking to Ela?"
"Do you have the book where someone is talking to Eva?"

"Excuse me, do you have Insomnia?"
"As a matter of fact yes. But I don't have the book, as I'm assuming you're referring to Binder. And it's not yet out, doesn't exist, there's no trace of it. Nu!"


... aren't you the little smartarse?

Eu după ce-i scanez cărțile:
- Punguță?
El râzând:
- Hai, do'n'șoară, am eu față de așa ceva?
Evident că nu mă prind, el continuă cu:
- Dacă ziceați să puneți altceva, dar așa, chiar Guță... nu, nu.
Și așa despart eu în minte cuvântul "punguță" în oribilul "pun Guță".

#youcantmakethisshitup :)))))))

Dear Ms. Zaharia,

I love both reading and buying books. I have a great respect for all booksellers, be they even confused interns who get utterly terrified by my requests. In short, I LOVE LOVE LOVE bookstores and bookstands.

You, on the other hand, are managing to get me annoyed less than 30 pages in.

No love whatsoever,
a disturbed book lover

Passionate otaku be like:

Sometimes I wish I could be as uncaring as Furuhata-san, because in her place, I'd have at least tossed some hot water in the guy's face...

Also, all this "double reading" in parallel, is making things go sooo slow. *sigh* Not one of my best ideas.

"Nothing's changed [in this store] has it?" she said.
"Yes, you're right," I replied after a moment.
The supervisor, the employees, the chopsticks, the spoons, the uniforms, the small change, the milk, the eggs, that I was scanning, and the plastic bags in which I put everything - nothing in the store has remained since the time it opened. Piece by piece everything had been replaced, and yet nothing was missing.

When I hear a quiet clink I turn around and look towards the cash register. When some is jingling their small change in their pocket, it's generally a customer, who's only stopping by to buy cigarettes or a newspaper.



I'll have to do all my grocery shopping in Japan, from now on...

Impatience, thy name is... Smartarse.



Yes, I'll be reading both in parallel. *wriggles into start position*

On learning French from "Pocket Medical French" audio cassettes:
With practice I will eventually reach my goal [of speaking French fluently]; in the meantime, come to Paris and you will find me, headphones plugged tight in my external audio meatus, walking quays and whispering, "Has anything else been inserted into your anus? Has anything else been inserted into your anus?"

My month of hard work was rewarded with four days in Paris, a city where, without even trying, one can find a two-hundred-year-old wax model of a vagina complete with human pubic hair.



Damn it! I knew I've stayed in the wrong arondisement!

"New York City!" the shopkeepers [in France] said. "Well, you're far from home, aren't you?" They said this as if I'd left Manhattan for a short walk and lost track of the time.

In an effort to impress his latest parole officer, Richie was trying to improve his vocabulary. "I can't promise I'll never kill anyone again," he once said. "It's unrealistic to live your life within such strict parameters."

I still do a lot of selfish and terrible things. I do not, however, treat myself to hot-cocoa enemas before an audience of invited guests. Minor as it seems, this has become something to celebrate.



Hm... I wonder if I can include this in random conversations.

To this day, I prefer to believe that inside every television there lives a community of versatile, thumb-size actors, trained to portray everything from a thoughtful newscaster to the wife of a millionaire stranded on a desert island. Fickle gnomes control the weather, and an air conditioner is powered by a team of squirrels, their cheeks packed with ice cubes.

If I got up from my seat at 2:25, she'd say, "Sit back down, David. You've still got 5 minutes before your speech therapy session." If I remained seated until 2:27, she'd say, "David, don't forget you have a speech therapy session at 2:30." On the days I was absent, I imagined she addressed the room, saying, "David's not here today but if he were, he'd have a speech therapy session at 2:30."

"They will say a man of your strong character ought to have been able to resist the likes of a common harlot like me."
"You are not a common harlot," he said tightly.
"Very well. An uncommon harlot."

She hurriedly climbed into the carriage before he could throw her in. It was not the she minded being flung about in that imperious way. It was rather that she liked it too much...



... mkay.

"May I remind you that this is the nineteenth century, not the ninth? That sort of behavior [i.e. servants gossiping] went out of fashion with chain mail and wimples."

[the footman] hastily took his place in the servant's seat.

The shop door opened, a woman hurried out and down the steps, glanced his way... and tripped.[...]
Rule: Humor will relieve an awkward moment.
"Mrs. Windgate," he said. "We were speaking of you. How good of you to drop by."



Uh... try again.

Lady Ordway burst from a doorway and surged toward him in a flutter of ribbons, ruffles and feathers. These, given her advanced state of pregnancy, created the effect of an agitated brood hen.



Holidays bring out my masochistic side. Hilariously bad writing.

"I thought he only referred to English families."
"Course not. What good would that do?" Hattie rolled her eyes at me. "Egypt, Abyssinia, even really foreign places like France."



Any of you English people remember the days when France was considered exotic, but not Egypt? #justvictorianthings