David Louden Quotes

Marilyn Monroe is pissing me off, Charlie Chaplin owes me twenty bucks, that fucker Shrek tried to fuck my girlfriend at Baskin Robbins.

Wriggling around, two fingers deep in my back end like some teenage boy unsure what he should be tugging at inside his girlfriend's nether region I wrestled a fifty free.

They stood either side of him like haunting little genetic bookends. The one thing he'll leave behind, two kids who called another man for help with their homework.

He looked along the line of children, exhibits A to C of his existence and heirs to the twisted throne of his corrupt genetics.

Tossing a smile my way I nodded back to her. Veronica had come home. Somewhere in a thirty-six dollar a night shack a Nazi dwarf was making it with two call girls. Los Angeles was one hell of a city.

So you're the little smart ass from Poleglass.
I wanted to point out he sounded like Dr. Seuss but bit my lip and remembered the warning the old lady gave me.

Propping up a seat at the bar we devour chicken wings like life does dreams

Prose before hoes, muthafucka! I'll be right over.

I'm super, it's like my favourite meal and a birthday blowjob from Christina Hendricks in here.

I loved her; I didn't know how to say it without breaking down the autobot façade she saw before her and revealing the ugly and scarred wreck that lived within my skin. So I played with the radio instead.

I sat with my toes buried in the warm yellow sand staring out towards the back door of The East. Pacific Ocean Blue was playing in the background and it had left me in a state of Bohemia as the waves crashed ashore; roaring as loud as lions.

Every little prick out there wants me to lift them. I had this one kid from Oklahoma, big fat shitter he was. Legs as fat as a Downers forehead screaming Up, up, Hulk up! at me for ten minutes until I had no other choice. Fat fucker damn near put my back out and then his old man stiffs me with Canadian dollars. Canadian, can you believe that shit?!

It hadn't always been this way, that's a cliché, but it is a cliché for a reason. It's not like anyone starts a relationship with nothing to say to the other person. No-one wants to feel like a complete stranger and live together because it's easier than trying to remember who owns the copy of Almost Famous – which was mine by the way.

How was it they had cut to Hollywood Boulevard for a fluff piece and ended up with Gangs of New-Fucking-York?! Bonnie looked to her co-Anchor. He was wearing a good mouth for cooling soup.