Itchy Poopzkid Quotes

Oh, by Moradin's itchy arse," grumbled Bruenor. "Scratched it, he did, and this one fell out. ~ R.A. Salvatore

There are so many cute vintage dresses made out of synthetics from the '60s and '70s - but they're so itchy and hot. It's not worth it! ~ Zooey Deschanel

Her heart kicked and an itchy burning in her throat made her swallow all her saliva away. She didn't know which way to go. ~ Toni Morrison

Al was standing a bare three feet away, his mood almost jovial as he took the paper and it vanished in a wash of black sparkles.
"Thank you, Rachel," he said, carefully reaching for my hand as Trent stiffened.
"Welcome back, my itchy witch. ~ Kim Harrison

You're more mean-spirited than I remember you being."
"It's this organic body. Hologram fur wasn't itchy. ~ Howard Tayler

Ageing must be like wearing a heavy, itchy suit. ~ Tom Cardamone

She took Sunny's coat off, and then her own, and dropped them both on the floor. Normally, of course, one should hang up one's coat on a hook or in a closet, but itchy hives are very irritating and tend to make one abandon such matters. ~ Lemony Snicket

I'll just have itchy, watery eyes! ~ Jeff Foxworthy

I rush over to him and practically knock him down as I kiss him hard. He stumbles back, but his hands go to my waist, and his mouth takes everything I give.
I try to express everything I feel for him, everything I want to say, because I'm not sure if I can admit it aloud yet. I love him. This is true, but the thought of saying it out loud makes the walls close in - just like they've always done. Only difference is, this time, when I remind myself that it's Damon, all that doubt, the claustrophobia, the itchy feeling of wanting to escape disappears completely.
If I focus on the Damon part and not words like love and forever, I don't freak out. I want it. Everything. ~ Eden Finley

From my first stab at second base, I became obsessively concerned for my vaginal upkeep. I began shaving the day after I felt my first tongue down my throat. The first buzz was a disaster, causing horrifically itchy dull razor breakout that made me look like I made love to a poison ivy bush. Whenever I thought there was a chance of unveiling my privates, I smothered every breakout with the same foundation I used for the occasional teenage acne face breakouts. ~ Maggie Young

There was a time when 'fear of God' meant piety, or at least conscience. Today, it more accurately describes the worldview of secular liberals who get itchy and twitchy at any reminder of our religious roots as a nation. ~ Mona Charen

Yet when we do manage to create ourselves anew, isn't there always a suspicion that the new identity fits over the old like a second skin, at times itchy or uncomfortably tight, not quite covering the most vulnerable patches? ~ Lynne Sharon Schwartz

Two grande lattes, double espresso, Italian blend," he said to the clerk. "Light on the froth, extra cinnamon. Use whole milk. Not two percent or half-and-half. Put a shot of raspberry in one for my itchy witch here. ~ Kim Harrison

Reading and gardening are really big for me, along with music and exercise. If I go more than a day or two without a run or a bike ride or something, I start to get kind of itchy and antsy. ~ Mark Deklin

I get a little itchy if I don't have some control. ~ Amy Poehler

Happiness is having a scratch for every itch. ~ Ogden Nash

The Sentinel of Rain
I am a creature who cooks on roofs,
sleeps on roofs, livess on roofs.
The unenlightened call me homeless;
my inner circle know me as 'The Sentinel of Rain'.
I know all there is to know about roofs:
copper roofing, itchy;
aluminium sheeting, noisy;
precast concrete; dusty;
ceramic tiles; slippery.
I haven't had the pleasure of crashing
on banana leave or straw roofs
but I imagine them to be quite comfy,
though pitched a bit steep to saunter about,
and as for cooking dinner on, fuhgeddaboudit!
Those roofs are as flammable as a cellulose nitrate
print of The Blue Angel.
Thank God I wasn't born in Southeast Asia or in the backward
English countryside with their thatch roof cottages.
It's good to be homeless in America.
There are so many roof choices,
the streets are virtually paved with dumpsters,
stocked to the gills like the shelves of Walmart,
and when it rains ~ and I'm the first to know,
there's never an overpass too far
to shelter me from nature's whims. ~ Beryl Dov

You know cats, always scratching on this or that, but never scratching what you want when you want it. (Like my balls, when they're itchy!) I recently got him declawed, which sucked for him, but it was great for me because I was tired of always biting his fingernails back when he was nervous. ~ Jarod Kintz

Kate had dressed for battle, donning her finest pink muslin morning dress. With lace at her wrists and mother-of-pearl buttons at her throat, instead of that itchy servant's cloak, she felt capable of matching wits with anyone. ~ Courtney Milan

Yes, you scratch my back, and I scratch yours. But shouldn't we, one of these evenings, sit down to figure out why our backs are always so itchy in the first place? ~ Rajesh`

Dave and Serge...played the Fiddler's Elbow as if it were Giants Stadium, and even though it was acoustic, they just about blew the place up. They were standing on chairs adn lying on the floor, they were funny, they charmed everyone in the pub apart from an old drunk ditting next to the drum kit...who put his fingers firmly in his ears during Serge's extended harmonica solo. It was utterly bizarre and very moving: most musicians wouldn't have bothered turning up, let alone almost killing themselves. And I was reminded...how rarely one feels included in a live show. Usually you watch, and listen, and drift off, and the band plays well or doesn't and it doesn't matter much either way. It can actually be a very lonely experience. But I felt a part of the music, and a part of the people I'd gone with, and, to cut this short before the encores, I didn't want to read for about a fortnight afterward. I wanted to write, but I didn't want to read no book. I was too itchy, too energized, and if young people feel like that every night of the week, then, yes, literature 's dead as a dodo.

(Nick's thoughts after seeing Marah at a little pub called Fiddler's Elbow.) ~ Nick Hornby

Itchy does not equal sexy. ~ Jennifer DeLucy

In your life, the people become like a patchwork quilt. Some leave with you a piece that is bigger than you wanted and others smaller than you thought you needed. Some are that annoying itchy square in the corner, and others that piece of worn flannel. You leave pieces with some and they leave their pieces with you. All the while each and every square makes up a part of what is you. Be okay with the squares people leave you. For life is too short to expect from people what they do not have to give, or were not called to give you. ~ Anna M. Aquino

I stop in exasperation and almost storm out of the Airstream, fed up with myself and with my sister, filled with that itchy combination of fatigue and anxiety that my entire family produces in me. An allergic reaction for which antihistamines can do nothing. I want a drink. ~ Caite Dolan-Leach

The next morning, I woke up to hear Becky moaning and rustling around in her bed covers.
"I'm so itchy!" she cried.
"So scratch!" I said, groggily, but suddenly, I felt itchy too.
So, I started scratching my legs. They felt better until I stopped scratching. Then, it started to burn. I threw back the covers and saw that my legs were covered in red bumps.
"My legs!" I yelled.
Becky looked over at me. Then, she pulled back her covers. Her legs were even worse. She gasped.
"Mom!" I cried.
Mom came in. She was ready for work, wearing her dress shirt and gym shorts. She only had to dress up the top half of her body in case she had to use her webcam to talk to her boss.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Look!" I said, showing her our legs.
"Oh no! That's poison ivy!" she cried, "Where were you guys playing yesterday?"
"The woods," I said.
"You must have been sitting in it," she said.

- The Castle Park Kids ~ Laura Smith

I can't stand lies. Probably no one can. Probably everyone is, to varying degrees, allergic to them, both spiritually and physically. Lies make me feel low and ignoble, and also itchy, like there's sand under my skin. The only thing that feels worse than hearing a lie is telling one. ~ Marisa De Los Santos

Hey you ! out there in the cold
Getting lonely, getting old, can you feel me
Hey you ! Standing in the aisles
With itchy feet and fading smiles, can you feel me
Hey you ! don't help them to bury the light
Don't give in without a fight.
Hey you ! out there on your own
sitting naked by the phone would you touch me
Hey you ! with your ear against the wall
Waiting for someone to call out would you touch me
Hey you ! would you help me to carry the stone
Open your heart, I'm coming home
But it was only a fantasy
The wall was too high as you can see
No matter how he tried he could not break free
And the worms ate into his brain.
Hey you ! out there on the road
Always doing what you're told, can you help me
Hey you ! out there beyond the wall
Breaking bottles in the hall, can you help me
Hey you ! don't tell me there's no hope at all
Together we stand, divided we fall. ~ Pink Floyd

Pulling at her uncomfortable hairstyle, she let several loose tendrils frame her face. Next, she took out the tight bun, and her braided hair hung down her back. Elsa didn't stop there. This gown had weighed her down for too long. It was time for it to go as well. With a wave of her hands, she imagined a new dress that suited her personality and style. Something light and freeing. Ice crystallized over the bottom of her teal dress, forming a new one that was a shimmering pale blue. Gone were the itchy high collar and the annoying long sleeves that restricted her movements. Her new gown was strapless, her neck was open, and her arms were loosely wrapped in silk. A light sheer cape was made up of a pattern of snowflakes as unique as she was. ~ Jen Calonita

At least Jennifer was beyond being tormented by itchy dresses. ~ Rita Mae Brown

Can you beat them on your own? Marasi half whispered, half mouthed at Wayne.
He grinned and mouthed back, Does a guy wif no hands got itchy balls? ~ Brandon Sanderson

As an actor, you get a bit itchy to do something entirely different. ~ Lily James

He's helped me a lot over the years."
"I'm sure he has. You scratch his back. He scratches yours."
"I have skin allergies. I'm itchy. ~ Darynda Jones

I'm one of those people who has to write. If I don't write, I feel itchy and depressed and cranky. So everybody's glad when I write and stop complaining already. ~ Libba Bray

Draw the curtains.
"Whatever for?"
Prying eyes and itchy ears.
"Are you naturally cryptic, or is it something you picked up at Guardian training academy? ~ Melika Dannese Hick

God, it stinks," I said, hand over my nose as he pulled me into a long step. Al strode forward, head high. "It's the stench of bureaucracy, my itchy-witch, and why I chose to go into human resources when but a wee lad. ~ Kim Harrison

Wanderlust is like itchy feet. It's when you can't settle down. But Wanderlove is much deeper than that ... it's a compulsion. It's the difference between lust and love. ~ Kirsten Hubbard

We took a hike in Malibu and shared ice cream. I stayed with him while he had walking pneumonia, heating soup and pouring him glass after glass of ginger ale and feeling his fevered forehead as he slept. He warned me of the life that was coming for me if I wasn't careful. Success was a scary thing for a young person, he said. I was twenty-four and he was thirty-three ("Jesus's age," he reminded me more than a few times). There was something tender about him, broken and gentle, and I could imagine that sex with him might be similar. I wouldn't have to pretend like I did with other guys. Maybe we would both cry. Maybe it would feel just as good as sharing a bed. On Valentine's Day, I put on lace underwear and begged him to please, finally, have sex with me. The litany of excuses he presented in response was comic in its tragedy: "I want to get to know you." "I don't have a condom." "I'm scared, because I just like you too much." He took an Ambien and fell asleep, arm over my side, and as I lay there, wide awake and itchy in my lingerie set, it occurred to me: this was humiliating, unsexy, and, worst sin of all, boring. This wasn't comfort. This was paralysis. This was distance passing for connection. I was being desexualized in slow motion, becoming a teddy bear with breasts. ~ Lena Dunham

One good thing that comes from living the nomadic life demanded by an expedition is that one sheds the fake skin donned from living too closely among society. For those of us who live for the freedom of such a lifestyle, that skin is dry and itchy and ill fitting. From my observances, that skin is much like a callus caused by the pure irritation of being forced to spend so much time with one's fellow man. Thank God I am spared such nonsense. ~ Karen Hawkins

Come here." Without regard for modesty, she pulled off her T-shirt and wadded it up to stanch his wounds. He splayed his fingers on her bare stomach and grinned. "Honey, I'm afraid I can't help you with that right now. Maybe later?" How could he joke and flirt when she was so afraid? "Max. You're bleeding. Maybe dying. I don't want to lose you."
"Come. Here." He grabbed her and pulled her down into the grass beside him. He pressed a kiss to her temple and rubbed his grizzled cheek against hers. The sirens were getting closer. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine. You're the one who got shot. Twice."
"I'm gonna live through both. I'm a tough guy, remember?"
"Damn it, Max - "
"Rosemary March. Did you just swear? You know I don't like hearing that from you," he teased. He pulled her in for a kiss that lasted until a groan of pain forced him to come up for air. "You get under my skin, Rosie."
"Like an itchy rash?" she teased.
"Like an alarm clock finally waking me up to the life I'm supposed to have. With you."
So when did the tough guy learn to speak such beautiful things? Tears stung her eyes again as she found a spot where she could hug him without causing any pain.
"I know I'm not the guy you expected to want you like this, and I know you weren't the woman I was looking for. Hell, I wasn't even looking."
"Neither was I."
"But we found each other."
"We're good for each other."
"I'm not an easy man ~ Julie Miller

This is about Ku'Sox, isn't it," I said, more of a statement than a question.
He made a sighing groan, and I knew it was. "Then you've met," he said, his thoughts clearly on the day-walking demon. "Funny, you don't look dead." His hand touched my chin, shifting it so he could see where I'd been pixed, the blisters itchy and red. "I'm surprised you survived the little designer dump. I nearly didn't. ~ Kim Harrison

The bragging was the worst. I hear this in schools all over the country, in cafés and restaurants, in bars, on the Internet, for Pete's sake, on buses, on sidewalks: Women yammering about how little they eat. Oh, I'm Starving, I haven't eaten all day, I think I'll have a great big piece of lettuce, I'm not hungry, I don't like to eat in the morning (in the afternoon, in the evening, on Tuesdays, when my nails aren't painted, when my shin hurts, when it's raining, when it's sunny, on national holidays, after or before 2 A.M.). I heard it in the hospital, that terrible ironic whine from the chapped lips of women starving to death, But I'm not hun-greeee. To hear women tell it, we're never hungry. We live on little Ms. Pac-Man power pellets. Food makes us queasy, food makes us itchy, food is too messy, all I really like to eat is celery. To hear women tell it we're ethereal beings who eat with the greatest distaste, scraping scraps of food between our teeth with our upper lips curled.

For your edification, it's bullshit. ~ Marya Hornbacher

I'm not very good at cooking, and I'm away all the time, and I like transient living. I get really itchy feet if I stay in one place. ~ Alison Goldfrapp

Can you tell me how a meltdown feels?"

She tilted her head to stare at the ceiling. "Itchy. And bad. You get so mad at yourself, because you know the thing that set you off isn't worth the reaction you're having, but you can't control it. It's like . . . knocking over a cup of tea. It goes everywhere, staining as it spreads, but you can't take it back. You just have to get over yourself and mop up the mess. ~ Julia Day