Bouma Truck Quotes

It's like any time a white friend suggests Korean barbecue. Or when I see a Food Network special where some tattooed white dude with a nineteenth-century-looking beard-and-mustache combo introduces viewers to this kimchi al pastor bánh mì monstrosity he peddles from a food truck that sends out location tweets. It's like when white people tell me how much they love kimchee and bull-go-ghee, and the words just roll off their tongues as if there exists nothing irreconcilable between the two languages.
It's like, don't touch my shit.
It's difficult to articulate because I know it's not rational. But as a bilingual immigrant from Korea, as someone who code-switches between Korean and English daily while running errands or going to the supermarket, not to mention the second-nature combination of the languages that I'll speak with my parents and siblings, switching on and switching off these at times unfeasibly different sounds, dialects, grammatical structures? It's fucking irritating. I don't want to be stingy about who gets to enjoy all these fermented wonders -- I'm glad the stigma around our stinky wares is dissolving away. But when my husband brings me a plate of food he made out of guesswork with a list of ingredients I've curated over the years of my burgeoning adulthood with the implicit help of my mother, my grandmother, and my grandmother's mother who taught me the patience of peeling dozens of garlic cloves in a sitting with bare hands, it puts me in snap-me-pf ~ Sung Yim

By the time Mitch got out of jail, he looked more the part than ever. The imposing teen had graduated into a towering adult, flecked with the first of many tattoos. Once out, he lasted a month and a half before the curse caught back up with him. He'd gotten a job in food distribution, mostly because he could unload four times the weight of any other guy on the truck, and because he liked physical work. He might be mentally cut out for a desk job, but he doubted he'd fit behind most desks. And everything was going smoothly - shitty apartment and shitty pay but all legally valid - until a man was beaten to death a few blocks from where his crew was unloading peaches. The cops took one look at Mitch and booked him. No bloody knuckles, and two coworkers to swear he had his arms full of fruit the whole time, and none of it mattered. Mitch went straight back to prison. ~ Victoria Schwab

Uncle Bob chuckled. "What the Hell Spawn of Satan are you wearing?"
What Ubie was so indelicately referring to was the outfit I'd changed into, carefully picking out my most comfortable black-on-black attire and meticulously applying black greasepaint to my face to complement a desert-at-midnight look. Naturally, I had to struggle through several costume changes as Garrett sat out in his leather-seated truck waiting for me. I sure hoped my time-consuming endeavor didn't annoy him. ~ Darynda Jones

Did you see the mailman while doing your rounds yesterday?"
Curran's face turned carefully blank. "Yes, I did."
"Did you do anything to scare him?"
"I was perfectly friendly."
"Mhm." Please continue with your nice story. Non-judgemental.
"He was putting things into the mailbox. I was passing by and I said, 'Hello, nice night.' And then I smiled. He jumped into his truck and slammed the door."
"Rude!" Julie volunteered.
"I let it pass," Curran said. "We're new to the neighborhood."
The former Beast Lord, a kind and magnanimous neighbor. "So you sneaked up behind him, startled him by speaking, and when he turned around and saw a six-hundred pound talking lion, you showed him your teeth?"
"I don't think that's what happened," Curran said.
"That's exactly what happened, Your Furriness." I laughed. ~ Ilona Andrews

Hollywood Rule:

RULE #1: You only need a license to do three things in the film business: blow up a building, wash someone's hair, or drive a truck. You need no license, certification, documentation, or, for that matter, any filmmaking experience to be a writer, producer, director, actor, or even a studio executive. All you need is money. ~ David Marder

I hated when my dad gendered the stupid truck. To retaliate, I called my boobs Brock and Chad, which my dad hated with equal fervor. ~ Maurene Goo

I reached into my pack and held something small in the fist I made. "It's a pocketknife," I said, enunciating each letter. I was asserting myself, I'd snapped out of something; he visibly snapped out of something too. I saw it acutely in his dropping posture: doubt in his movement. I said, "The truck works."

And so it did. ~ Aspen Matis

Does she already have a man in White Horse? Who is he? I'll find out and scare him off. And if he doesn't scare? I'll beat him with a bat. I'll take an ax and chop him into tiny pieces. No, drag him behind my truck until he's mush. If any man in White Horse touches Candy besides me, I'll beat him until he's half dead. Then I'll let him get medical treatment and heal up, so I can beat him to death for real. ~ Bijou Hunter

He felt like throwing a hissy fit right there in the truck. Go out with me not her! She doesn't care about you! I do. Can't you see that! I'm crazy about you! I fuckin' love you! ~ A.E. Via

My grandfather was a healer, and he used matches often. Once, he burnt a wart off my finger and then rubbed the ash deep into it, and it never did come back. When he worked at a factory, people would line up next to his truck to be healed. He died before he could teach us any of his secrets. ~ Shea Hembrey

I love my life, but I don't think I'm any happier than my younger brother Andre, who drives a garbage truck. ~ Chris Rock

Well, you missed out on some important protocol, Ella. You can't stand between a Texan and his power tools. We like them. Big ones that drain the national grid. We also like truck-stop breakfasts, large moving objects, Monday night football, and the missionary position. We don't drink light beer, drive Smart cars, or admit to knowing the names of more than about five or six colors. And we don't wax our chests, ever. ~ Lisa Kleypas

For five years the refugees of Eastern Europe had been pouring into Austria through every fast-closing gap in the barbed wire: crashing frontiers in stolen cars and lorries, across minefields, clinging to the underneath of trains, to be corralled and questioned and decided over in their thousands, while they played chess on wooden packing cases and showed each other photographs of people they would never see again. They came from Hungary and Romania and Poland and Czechoslovakia and Yugoslavia and sometimes Russia, and they hoped they were on their way to Canada and Australia and Palestine. They had travelled by devious routes and often for devious reasons. They were doctors and scientists and bricklayers. They were truck drivers, thieves, acrobats, publishers, rapists and architects. ~ Adam Sisman

I suppose the implication of that is the president and the vice president and myself and Colin Powell just fell off a turnip truck to take these jobs. ~ Donald Rumsfeld

When I got the script for Thelma & Louise, when I met with the director, Ridley Scott, I said, "I don't want to do a revenge film. I'm not interested in doing that moment in the script after they shoot the truck, where it says they jump up and down and they're real happy about it". ~ Susan Sarandon

First truck called a 'pick-up' was an International Harvester S in 1921. ~ L. M. Boyd

Yeah, he muttered, bent and kissed her jaw then moved from the bed thinking that if she wasn't cool with taking him ungloved, he was buying a fucking case of condoms and stashing them everywhere so they'd never run out. Her house. Her Cayenne. His truck. His wallet. Her wallet. His workout bag. His office. The club. Her nightstand. His bedroom at home.
Every-fucking-where.
Dozens of those fuckers. ~ Kristen Ashley

Every year, Kansas watches the world die. Civilizations of wheat grow tall and green; they grow old and golden, and then men shaped from the same earth as the crop cut those lives down. And when the grain is threshed, and the dances and festivals have come and gone, then the fields are given over to fire, and the wheat stubble ascends into the Kansas sky, and the moon swells to bursting above a blackened earth.

The fields around Henry, Kansas, had given up their gold and were charred. Some had already been tilled under, waiting for the promised life of new seed. Waiting for winter, and for spring, and another black death.

The harvest had been good. Men, women, boys and girls had found work, and Henry Days had been all hot dogs and laughter, even without Frank Willis's old brown truck in the parade.

The truck was over on the edge of town, by a lonely barn decorated with new No Trespassing signs and a hole in the ground where the Willis house had been in the spring and the early summer. Late summer had now faded into fall, and the pale blue farm house was gone. Kansas would never forget it. ~ N.D. Wilson

Yeah, right. I don't believe that one for a minute. What do you think? I fell off a turnip truck? (Simone)
Honestly? All I was thinking about was how beautiful you are. How much I wanted to feel your skin against mine and how I've never been this attracted to a woman before. (Xypher) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

You sound surprised."
"Not surprised, really. It's just that…." Heller flashed me a sheepish look. "I haven't actually told him I love him."
"Really?" I assumed he had. Didn't mates do that?
"Really, and I don't know why I haven't since I started falling in love with him the moment I looked into those sexy gunmetal eyes of his. Gods, those eyes of his. It's like rolling in catnip."
I leaned against my truck. Oh, this was almost too good. "Is this you waxing poetically?"
"Don't hate me because I have great hair and a way with words. Jeez, Remi, I do. I do love him. Wow." Heller looked at me, a happy smile plastered on his face. "I feel so much lighter now that I said it. I love him."
"Of course you do. He's your mate."
Heller's smiled
dipped. "It's not that simple, and you damn well know it. Are you saying you love Marshell?"
"Whoa, there." I held up my hands - like that was going to stop him. "I just met him. ~ M.A. Church

When I got outta High School I was driving a truck. I was just a poor boy from Memphis, Memphis. ~ Elvis Presley

They's a lot of no-good sonofabitches out there."
Arvin asks, "More than a hundred?"
Willard laughed a little and put the truck in gear. "Yeah, at least that many. ~ Donald Ray Pollock

I looked over. Somehow, I wasn't surprised to find the homeless guy from the rail yard sitting in the shotgun seat. His jeans were so worn out they were almost white. His coat was ripped, with stuffing coming out. He looked kind of like a teddy bear that had been run over by a truck. ~ Rick Riordan

Esperanza leaned around the side of the truck. As they rounded a curve, it appeared as if the mountains pulled away from each other, like a curtain opening on stage, revealing the San Joaquin Valley beyond. Flat and spacious, it spread out like a blanket of patchwork fields. Esperanza could see no end to the plots of yellow, brown, and shades of green. The road finally leveled out on the valley floor, and she gazed back at the mountains from where they'd come. They looked like monstrous lions' paws resting at the edge of ridge. ~ Pam Munoz Ryan

Leif gripped Benny's shoulders to hold him back, but he broke free and chased the truck, pumping his tiny arms and legs with great furry.
"I love you!" he called out, when he was just ten feet away. I gripped the metal bars, my throat choked with emotion.
"I love you!" Silas cried, as he followed.
They both kept after us, sprinting wildly behind the cage. I watched their mouths moving, saying those words over and again, as the truck bounded through the woods and their small bodies disappeared, unreachable, behind the trees. ~ Anna Carey

This is so weird," said Simon. "I keep expecting the truck to start sinking." "I can't believe you just went through what we went through and you think this is weird," said Jace, but ~ Cassandra Clare

A lot of unemployment, though. We've got two closed factories and a rotting shopping mall that went bankrupt before it ever opened. We're not far from Kentucky, which marks the unofficial border to the South, so one sees more than enough pickup trucks decorated with stickers of Confederate flags and slogans proclaiming their brand of truck is superior to all others. Lots of country music stations, lots of jokes that contain the word "nigger." A sewer system that occasionally backs up into the streets for some unknown reason. Lots and lots of stray dogs around, many with grotesque deformities. ~ David Wong

You're not allowed to park a truck in your driveway. You're not allowed to work on your house on Sunday. The people who enforce these laws are nuts. After I wrote a column on this, I got I don't know how many letters from Coral Gables homeowners, story after story after story, wonderfully horrible stories. And the venom they felt for their own government! ~ Dave Barry

Z: "You know, this was a hell of a lot easier when you were out cold in the back of that truck."
Phury: "That was you?"
Z:"You think it was Santa Claus or some shit? ~ J.R. Ward

The Bagshaw's blew up an armored truck one,' Gabrielle offered. ~ Ally Carter

Make a List (or lists)


•Make a list of all the things that you can look at and think: Why did we even bother to move that the last time? Now will be your last and best chance to give or throw away unwanted items until your next move (5-7 years on average). Give unwanted clothes, furniture, kitchen items, etc. to a charity that allows you to use your donation as a tax write-off. Yard sales are another option.
•Make a list (and/or get one online) of household hazardous materials. These are common items in your home that are not or might not be safe to transport: flammables like propane tanks (even empty ones), gasoline or kerosene, aerosols or compressed gases (hair spray, spray paint), cleaning fluids in plastic containers (bleach, ammonia) and pesticides (bug spray) and herbicides (weed killer) and caustics like lye or pool acid.
There is more likely to be damage caused by leakage of cleaning fluids-- like bleach--than there is by damage caused by a violent explosion or fire in your truck. The problem lies in the fact that any leaking fluid is going to drip its way to the floor and spread out--even in the short time span of your move and more so if you are going up and down hills. Aerosols can explode in the summer heat as can propane BBQ tanks. Gasoline from lawnmowers and pesticide vapors expand in the heat and can permeate everything in the truck. Plastic containers that have been opened can expand and contract with a change in temperature and al ~ Jerry G. West

For me the two biggest issues are climate change and animal welfare/animal agriculture. And oddly enough animal agriculture is such a contributor to climate change. According to the United Nations, 25% of climate change comes from animal agriculture, so every car, bus, boat, truck, airplane combined has less CO2 and methane emissions than animal agriculture. ~ Moby

The things they say!
A truck driver would blush.
I would never talk that way
to Trevor he walks on water.
I want him to think I do too.
For a while, he did, or at least
he pretended to.

I did things with Trevor
I wouldn't dare to confess
to anyone - things I didn't
know anyone did.
But he wanted me to,
so I did. That's what you do
when you love someone,
right? ~ Ellen Hopkins

I'm loading a dump truck full of mulch for a landscaping job when my cell phone rings. It's hot day and I wipe the sweat off my brow while removing one of my work gloves. It's hard labor, no question, ~ Faith Sullivan

Watching Mom try to act girlie would be entertainment in itself. Our last attempt at a girls' day started with a pedicure and ended with a monster-truck rally. That was five years ago. And so was her last pedicure. ~ Anna Banks

And all love that had overtaken her would have to be a memory, a truck on the interstate roaring up from the left, a thing she must let pass. ~ Lorrie Moore

Can I throw you under a truck some other time. ~ Neal Shusterman

He supposed that if he were a young female hitchhiker, he might ask a question or two himself before hopping willy-nilly into someone's car or truck. It might not help, but it sure couldn't hurt. Because once you were out in the desert, anything could happen to you. ~ Stephen King