Kristin Walker Quotes

Now, I want you to look at each other. Really look. And then I'd like you to each say something positive about the other person." "Now Todd, you go first."
Todd eye balled me up and down."She appears to have all her teeth".
"OOh, good one,Todd," I cooed,then turned to maggie and smiled sweetly. " And Todd smells very little like a pile of goat crap.

He isn't so bad."
"You're not fake-married to him.

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You're not gay, are you?
What?!
I mean you've never had a boyfriend. And you're not exactly ... girly.
I'm not gay. I'm just unpopular.

So I wonder if true love is more subtle. If it sneaks up or stands there next to you, and you don't recognize that it's true love until you turn and look at tis thing that's been right there with you all along, and you realize that you never want to be without it.

Nothing said Clothes to Wear When You Want to Impress a Guy You Initially Shot Down, But Now You Realise You Like Him and Want to Get Him Back. Where was the outfit for that?

Around here news travels faster than mono, and by the end of the day, the whole school had heard about Todd's and my standoff with Principal Miller and Maggie Klein. By the time the story circulated and came back around to me, I had apparently bitch-slapped Maggie Klein and then tongued Todd in front of Principal Miller.
Oh, and Mom was a former showgirl in an all-gay revue.

I couldn't exactly blame Jane Austen for being a romantic. What the hell else was there to do back then for fun?

So I've made up with Mar. I've made up with Señor Shitslacks. I'd even forged a shaky truce with Amanda. The only person I still needed to deal with was Johnny Mercer. Oh yeah, I had to kill Gabe Walker, too, but there was plenty of time for that.

If I was Todd's wife in real life, I'd have to kill myself. Okay, maybe I'm being a bit melodramatic. I wouldn't kill myself. But I'd definitely turn lesbian, at the very least.

From now on, I was going to live my life, not wait for it.

I'm telling you, you really should stick to mating within your species, whatever that is.'
'I would,' I said, 'but unfortunately, there are no gorgeous, all-powerful, all-knowing gods around here. I'd even settle for a demigod. It's a step down, I know. But alas, there are nothing but low-brained mortals here. And half-brains, like you.

I gaped. "You are not seriously that chauvinistic?"
"Hmmm ... " He stroked his chin dramatically. "Maybe not in real life." Hillbilly again. "But as your fake husband ... yes, I think I am."
I eyed him up and down. "I need to call the Guinness Book of Records or Gray's Anatomy or something, because I am standing here looking at the single largest asshole ever known to man.

That's how you know if a friend is the best kind. If time and miles get between you, yet when you come back together, it's like you were never apart.

So he likes being mean to you," she said. "And you like that he likes being mean to you."
"And I like being mean to him, too, don't forget."
"Of course not. Pleasure from meaness. There's a name for it: sadomasochism."
"Thanks a lot." I said. "That's just what I need. A mental picture of Todd Harding laced up in a black leather bodysuit with a whip in one hand and his wang in the other.

I jumped up and "casually" strolled a bit closer. I blinked my eyes in the sun. It couldn't be, could it? But it was.
Gabe.
...
"You know, if you're going to stalk someone, you should be less obvious."
I wheeled around. It was Todd. He'd snuck up on me.
He said, "For starters, try not to standing in the middle of a field, gawking at your prey."
I kicked at a dusty clump of grass. "Gawking? I ... I'm ... not gawking. I was just watching your girlfired putting the moves on someone else. Jealous?"
"Oh Gabe Webber?" Todd laughed. "Uh ... no."
I shielded my eyes from the sun. "Why? What's wrong with Gabe Webber?"
"Nothing. As in, there's nothing there. He has the personality of dry toast."
How dare he insult my Gabe? "Oh yes. I forgot. You prefer the company of assholes and jerks. As they say, 'Birds of a feather ... '"
"That must be why you hang around.

Not that anyone really knows what one is. And yet, people still find each other. It's a freaking miracle, when you think about it.

Marcie fancied herself an amateur therapist at times. I was her favorite patient.

He said, "So ... do you like music?"
It was a pretty stupid question. I mean, who doesn't like music? Okay, maybe some puritanical zealot out in Hicksville.
But really. It was kind of like asking, "Do you like food?" "Isn't oxygen great?" "Have you got skin? I do." I knew what he meant, though.

She crashed. I think she was literally high on sugar.
Seriously I thought she was going to start free basing pixy stix.

Designer clothes, bubblegum pop music, celebrity heartthrobs - I couldn't give a fat rat's hairy ass. Just give me my hotdog and Jane Austen, and I'm good.

You know, if you're going to stalk someone, you should be less obvious. For starters, try not to standing in the middle of a field, gawking at your prey.

And I'm sorry," Big Earrings said, "But how is some course going to teach them how marriage works? I've been married three times, and I haven't figured it out yet." She snorted. "I figured out how to call a lawyer, though.

She set her hands neatly in her lap. "But you just said he liked you."
"No, I said he enjoys my company. That is, he enjoys hating me. Or pretending to hate me. I don't know which.
But I'm finding it difficult to completely dislike someone who gets pleasure from having me around ... "So he likes being mean to you," she said. "And you like that he likes being mean to you."
"And I like being mean to him, too, don't forget."
"Of course not. Pleasure from meanness. There's a name for it: sadomasochism.

You can't tell who you're going to end up with. You might spend your whole life dreaming about one type of person, only to find happiness with somebody completely different.

Johnny made me feel like I was clever without trying to be. And pretty. And valued. He made everything about me seem more special.
Like, say I was a song. Well, Johnny made me feel as though I'd been remixed. The melody didn't change, but it wasn't just the same one-dimensional sequence of notes anymore. Instead, he brought out all these harmonies - these low and high notes - that made the music fuller. No more discord or dissonance. Around Johnny, I was the best possible rendition of myself.

And i was buck-naked. Which probably would have made for an interesting night, but the last time i'd checked i was neither a porn star or a prostitute.

Todd came toward me with the squad trailing behind him like a street gang of angry thugs with breasts.