Jenn Cooksey Quotes

I'm totally on Facebook, my alias is Invisible Nightmare.

But we're worth it. We're worth trying.

Oh, you know ... staring down fear, laughing in the face of death, taking a ride in Hell, and in general, testing the waters of the unknown.

I'm gonna take a minute here because you seriously need to understand how magnificent this guy is.

On the wall next to the door we'd entered through was a huge floor-to-ceiling bulletin/whiteboard combo and hanging from a thumbtack on the bulletin board amongst pictures and other various sorts of memorabilia was my bra. It'd been washed but it still had
a good many blotches of pink on it. If that wasn't shocking enough, the dialogue written over the last two weeks on the whiteboard pertaining to said bra certainly was. I'll include the copy just so you can truly appreciate what I'm dealing with here.
Tristan's Mom: What's this?
Tristan: A size 34B lace covered slingshot.
Jeff: Nice!
Tristan's Mom: Do I want to know?
Tristan: I don't know, do you?
Tristan's Mom: Not really. Are you planning on returning it or did you win some kind of prize?
Tristan: I plead the fifth.
Tristan's Dad: Well done son.
Jeff: Ditto!
Tristan's Mom: Don't encourage him.
Tristan: Gee, thanks Mom.
Tristan's Dad: Can't a father be proud of his only child?
Tristan's Mom: He doesn't need your help…obviously.
Tristan's Dad: That's because he takes after me.
Tristan: Was there anything else I can do for you two?
Tristan's Mom: Tell her I tried to get the stains out, but I'm afraid they set in before I got to it.
Tristan: I'm sure she'll appreciate your effort, but if I'm any judge (and I'd like to think I am) its
size has caused it to become obsolete and she needs to trade up.
Jeff: I'm so proud.
Trist

The numbers are staggering. I swear I read somewhere that in every one thousand times a couple has unprotected sex, they'll get pregnant one billion times.

Sarcasm. It's not just a form of speech; it's a dear friend. Oh,

Oh by the way, man, don't ever mix turkey and Nyquil together ... it's nasty and it doesn't fuckin' work anyway.

The hell? She BETTER fucking remember me!

I love the little kids... they're my minions.

Oh God, my poor baby ... she's just as fucked up as I am. I love it!

He and I speak the same language ... we just have different accents.

Thunderdome will never be boring so I'll have fresh battle scars when I die.

Taking a deep breath and trying not to reveal my sudden feeling of inadequacy, I was about to come back with a counter offer when a knock on the window startled me and I did what I always do ... I squeaked, which Tristan thought was pretty hilarious. And for whatever reason, that embarrassed me. Nooo, not telling a guy I'd need gum in order to give him a blowjob, or being more than half-naked with a guy and almost having sex for the time, nor sitting on said guy's lap while he has an obvious erection ... no, none of that embarrasses me. Nope, squeaking like a timid mouse in front of him ... that's what turns my face bright red. I'm tellin' ya, I have issues.

Just so you understand; he's using a scene from Buffy to ask me out!!!!

Again, folks, you've been witness to one of the most seldom seen events in history ... I'm Chicken Larson saying good night, sleep tight and don't let the boogie man or a suicide blonde getchya.

Eight comes out of freaking nowhere with me suddenly wanting to just kiss his face. A lot. Like, I actually want to make-out with the arrogant son of a bitch.

What do I look like? A blonde rolodex for boys who've lost an archery match with cupid?