Bimbo Girl Quotes

It’s just a party. You eat some food and drink a beer and pretend you don’t want to be crawdad fishing,” Angie said. “No, it’s an echo chamber of sycophants and I can’t listen to some bimbo recite her newest purchases while pretending I don’t want to throw myself from the roof.

Don’t worry,” I say. “There’s plenty more fish in the sea.” “But I don’t want a fish,” Davey says. He really did say that and he wasn’t even trying to be funny. “I mean there’ll be other girls,” I say. “And anyway I’ve been thinking about all this and I’m wondering if we’re a bit too young to be worried about girls. You know, Davey, there are actually loads of boys who haven’t got girlfriends at our school. And even the ones who have don’t really go out with them. They just hang around school and maybe outside Morrisons. What sort of relationship is that? I think we’ve been fooled into submitting to peer pressure and we should just stop and say no! No, I will not feel inferior. I refuse to feel like a loser just because some bimbo isn’t trying to lick my tonsils... And besides, a girl will come along in her own good time. Probably when we're least expecting it!

Tuesday and Wednesday flew by. Dylan from 5B came over on Thursday. I didn’t smoke any pot, but I let him hotbox my apartment so I was even more completely stoned than I was the time before, except this time my eyebrows remained intact. We watched three episodes of Whose Line Is It Anyway? and laughed our asses off. Dylan was actually pretty cute. He was tall and skinny and pale with buzzed hair, but he had these really blue eyes. That night he helped me carry my laundry to the basement. “Hey Kate, you wanna go to the skate park with me tomorrow night?” “I can’t, I have a date with a lesbian.” His eyes shot open. “Oh, cool.” “It’s not what you think.” He smiled and shrugged. “It’s your business. Aren’t you still dating that douche wad in 9A?” “Stephen? No, he dumped me last week. He’s dating someone else already.” “His loss.” He said it so quickly and nonchalantly that I almost believed him. We got to the basement door. Dylan pushed it open and walked in but paused in front of me. I leaned around his body and saw Stephen making out with a different girl than he had been with earlier that week. At first I didn’t recognize her, and then I saw her token pink scrunchie bobbing above her head. It was the bimbo from the sixth floor. Every time I saw her she was with a different guy. Stephen turned and spotted me. “Kate, I thought you did your laundry on Mondays?” I contemplated sharing my thoughts on women in their thirties who still wear colorful hair pretties, but I chose to take the high road. Anyway, one or both of them would undoubtedly have a venereal disease by the end of the week, and that was my silver lining. “Don’t talk to me, Stephen.” I coughed and mumbled, “Pencil dick” at the same time. Dylan stayed near the door. Everyone in the room watched me as I emptied my laundry bag into a washer. I added soap, stuck some quarters in, closed the lid, and turned to walk out. Just as I reached the opening, Dylan pushed me against the doorjamb and kissed me like he had just come back from war. I let him put on a full show until he moved his hand up and cupped my breast. I very discreetly said, “Uh-uh” through our mouths, and he pulled his hand away and slowed the kiss. When we pulled apart, I turned toward Stephen and the bimbo and shot them an ear-splitting smile. “Hey, Steve”—I’d never called him Steve—“Will you text me when the washer is done? I’ll be busy in my apartment for a while.” He nodded, still looking stunned. I grabbed Dylan’s hand and pulled him into the elevator. Once the doors were closed, we both burst into laughter. “You didn’t have to do that,” I said. “I wanted to. That asshole had it coming.” “Well, thank you. You live with your mom, right?” “Yeah.” “Please don’t tell her about this. I can’t imagine what she would think of me.” “I’m not that much younger than you, Kate.” He jabbed me in the arm playfully and smirked. “You need to lighten up. Anyway, my mom would be cool with it.” “Well, I hope I didn’t give you the wrong idea.” “Nah. We’re buddies, I get it. I’m kind of in love with that Ashley chick from the fourth floor. I just have to wait until next month when she turns eighteen, you know?” He wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed. “You two would make a cute couple.” If only it were that simple.

I can't believe you didn't cold-cock that girl. I jerked at her remark. She continued. There was this woman who used to work in Peter's first office and she was so in lust with him. I saw Peter smile and shake his head, but she kept going, leaning forward to look at me from across his chest. It seemed like every time I went to bring him lunch or drop by for…a visit, she was there. Touching his arm, leaning on his desk, calling his office when I was in there with some emergency. Ugh. Anyway, the very first time I got her alone in the elevator I cornered that hussy and told her she had better keep her paws off. That I was watching her and that hunk of a man was taken. I covered my mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. So I admire your restraint. Significants usually don't have much when it comes to our mates. I would have given Bimbo a black eye at the very least.

Hillary saw that Bill also enjoyed the attention of the ladies. Satisfying these appetites seemed for Bill to be the height of his aspirations. In exchange for tolerating his affairs, he would be her lifelong pitchman, and she could accompany him as his “roadie” until he made it big—really big. Then, perhaps, it would be her turn. Hillary did have a pitch to make. She had to pitch Bill on this arrangement. And Bill was smart: he went for it. He married the plain girl with the heavy spectacles because he recognized that she could take him to places where he couldn’t go himself. Once there, he would have all the power and all the money and all the chicks he wanted. She, for her part, would have to put up with Bill’s bimbos; ideally he would have the discipline to be discreet about them, but if they ever surfaced she would have to cooperate in discrediting them and shutting them up.

Damn Princess. You look …” He cleared his throat and finally met my eyes, “wow.” I blushed fiercely and crossed my arms over my chest. “I was uh, just coming to get more towels.” He reached into the closet and pulled out a few. Dropping all but one on the floor next to me, he shook out the one still in his hand and wrapped it around my shoulders. “How are you?” He brushed his fingers across my cheek and down my neck causing me to stifle a moan. “Huh?” Chase chuckled against my neck and lightly pressed his lips to my throat. “That good, huh?” I blinked a few times and pushed away from him, ignoring that smirk I loved so much, “Why do you keep doing this to me?” “What do you mean?” He went to wrap his arms around me, but I stepped out of his reach. “This!” I pointed to an outstretched arm, “You can’t keep doing this. I’m with Brandon now, you have to stop.” His face fell into an unreadable mask and he dropped his arms to his side. “No more notes, no more touches, no more putting your lips on me. This isn’t fair to me. Do you have any idea how crazy you’re making me?” Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have asked that, his eyes lit up and that stupid smirk was back. “Really now?” “Chase I’m serious, this has to stop.” “Give me one good reason why I should.” I huffed and wrapped the towel tighter around me, “I told you, I’m with Brandon now.” “I said a good reason Princess.” He deadpanned. “That’s a perfectly good reason! And it’s the only one you’re going to get.” I bent down and picked up the towels, when I stood back up he was right in front of me. “Harper.” “No Chase,” I shut my eyes so I wouldn’t get distracted again, “Please just – just don’t. I really like Brandon. Besides, you have plenty of girls who are fine with being treated like shit by you, I’m not one of them. Go find another brainless bimbo to screw and get out of your system.” I heard his sharp intake of breath, but kept my eyes closed until I was on my way back outside.

… I like something to suddenly appear that didn’t seem to be there. I like to be surprised in the area of flesh. I don’t necessarily like to be surprised in the area of brain, although I must say this girl did interest me that way. At one point she said something like that I should fuck bimbos and have the cigarette with her, which was a funny line. She says some very funny stuff.

Almost as sick as before, I clicked out the light and curled up in my own ball of misery. I couldn’t sleep. Images of her, so long repressed, played in my mind like a montage. The first time I laid eyes on her at the diner. Her sweet sensual face, those dorky glasses, her self-consciousness burning away with her growing anger. I recalled holding her slender curves while she thrashed around, desperately trying to escape from the one person who was trying the hardest to help her. The shocked anticipation on her face in the pharmacy when she thought I was going to kiss her. Even the unflattering florescent light couldn’t detract from her beauty, or hide her shame at her weakness for me. We had been drawn to each other, from the very beginning. And then I flashed forward to how we’d ended—with her leaving me for my mortal enemy. The one who’d back-handed her for kicking him in the shin and called her a “country bimbo.” The one who tagged and dragged her to The Academy against her will. The commander who put me in charge of this mission—to get his baby mama back. She was just a girl I used to know.