Deking Quotes

It won’t let me just use my own name as my username.” “Yeah, probably because about nine hundred Brendan Taggarts joined before you.” “So what should I use?” “CaptainCutie69,” Fox spat out. “IGotCrabs4U,” Deke supplied. “SlipperyWhenWet.” Brendan stared. “You’re all fired. Go home.

Sometimes, life just sucked. "Bite me," she muttered. "Okay, where?" Deke asked, then went on. "Never mind. I've got some enticing ideas of my own.

Brendan cleared his throat hard. “What does ‘follow’ mean?” “Don’t,” Deke rushed to say. “Don’t press it.” His thumb was already on the way back up. “Too late.” All three of his crew members surged to their feet. “No. Brendan, don’t tell me you just tapped the blue button,” Sanders groaned, hands on his mop of red hair. “She’s going to see you followed her. She’s going to know you internet stalked her.” “Can’t I just unfollow now?” Brendan started to tap again. Fox lunged forward. “No! No, that’s even worse. If she already noticed you followed her, she’s just going to think you’re playing games.” “Jesus. I’m deleting the whole thing,” Brendan said, throwing the offending device onto the dashboard.

Here's the deal. You eat some lunch, at least something light that will help you keep your energy up, then we'll talk." "About what? We've already conversed today-twice-in the language you're fluent in: Fuckese." Deke fought a smile. "You probably meant that as a slur, but somehow I'm complemented." "You would be," she muttered.

Neil Patrick Harris in a harness?” “Sweet Neil Patrick Harris in a harness.” “Care to explain?” He faces me, his blue eyes shining in the dark. “Sometimes fuck doesn’t cover it.

Fuck!” he snarled. He tilted her up again, her legs now resting on his shoulders, and positioned himself and began to push. Into her back entrance. Kimber drew in a great, shocked gasp, her hazel eyes wide. “Deke?” “What the hell are you doing?” Luc barked. Tensing a little more with every inch he pushed inside Kimber’s tight passage, the tendons on his neck standing out, the muscles in his arms shaking, assailed by the amazing sensations of being slowly enveloped by her tight, ready flesh, Deke could barely form a word. “Fucking her ass. Saving her life.

Deke: 'You know what I'm wonderin'?' Malachi: 'No, and to tell the truth, I don't care' Deke: 'I'm wonderin' how you've managed to live to the ripe old age of 36, when it's a known fact that you've been brain-dead since birth' 'Strength of will', was the flat reply

After we settle in, dinner becomes a quiet affair, probably because it’s feeding time at Jurassic Park.

You know who never has to point out they’re an adult? Actual adults.

Never wanna leave my Justice, my home. So I bring her with me, my baby Lonesome. Don't matter, Justice is always there, Always right there, no matter where I go. My baby Lonesome, Makin' it so I'm never missin' home.

He squatted and reached into the bag. “Open a beer for me, yeah?” “I live to serve.” Deke wanted to test that but do it when they were both naked. Fuck

Jesus, he 's blogger," Pax said. "Arrest him, Deke.

My favorite showed Mimi and Deke doing the twist at a school dance. She looked like she was having fun; he looked like a man with a fair-sized stick up his ass.

Thank you, Deke. You are very good to me.” “I know,” he smirks. “Can I get back in your bed now?

Always wondered, he rough or can he be gentle?" Krystal asked. “God, Krys!” Lauren snapped… “Check and check,” I answered Krys before they could get into it. “Best of both worlds,” Krystal muttered. “Surprising. Always figured Deke would fuck like a freight train.” “And check,” I said, grinning at Krystal who grinned back at me.

Prepare for reality, kids, because when all’s said and done, Prince Charming will throw you an ultimatum.

I know you know,” Daddy Deke said. “But I’ll tell you sumn for free—there ain’t nothing wrong with the feelings you having, but them feelings are yours. Ain’t nobody else responsible for ’em, dig? You can’t carry nothing for nobody else, and cain’t nobody carry what’s yours for you.

He was Deke. And he was mine.

Deke doesn’t date. He claims then he fucks,

Deke looked at me anxiously, reminding me very much of a large and handsome dog who needs a stick to fetch.

Randy war ein guter Schüler und Deke ein guter Footballspieler, aber keiner war einen Furz bei Sturm wert, wenn es um Haushalt ging

Poricanje je poput stare deke. Voljela sam se sklupčati pod njom i spavati.

Dexter,' Debs said, jerking her head at me. 'Get some smelling salts or something. You and Deke help her up.' (...) Deke looked at me anxiously, reminding me very much of a large and handsome dog who needs a stick to fetch. 'Hey, you got some of that smelling stuff?' he said. Apparently it had become universally accepted that Dexter was the Eternal Keeper of the Smelling Salts. I had no idea where that baffling canard had come from, but in truth, I was completely without. Luckily, Mrs Aldovar apparently was not interested in sniffing anything.

My whole childhood was a lie. Damn you, Emilio Estevez and Joshua Jackson.

worry that topping for the first time means he lost a severe amount of brain cells when he came.

Do penguins have nipples?

It would be better maybe if we could stop loving the children and their delicate brawls, pelting across the square in tandem, deking from cover to cover in raucous celebration and they are never winded, bemusing us with the rites of our own gone childhood; if only they stopped mattering, the children, it might be possible, now while the square lies stunned by noon.

was waiting in the bathroom for a hookup, I wouldn’t have hesitated. Closeted meatheads are my kryptonite, and apparently, I don’t even need to know that fact anymore before being drawn to them.

Chance smiled back at him, and “Well, can you think of anything else I could do with my life that could ever possibly be half this splendid, half this important? I’m learning to read, Deke, and not just the handful of things men have been around long enough to write down. The history of the whole damned planet is written in rocks, just lying there waiting for us to learn how to read it.

sufficiently novel it was described from scratch – ‘this is really an open-faced tart’ – and recommended as the ‘masterpiece’ that would provide the ‘climax’ to any cocktail party. Not only did ‘real men’ forgo quiche; all Australians did. Sydney appears to be a small town, where everyone knew each other. The authors – Ted Moloney and Deke Coleman – were able to reveal how individual dishes first arrived. Steak Diane, they say, was introduced to the country by a chef called Tony Clerici. There are only two private homes,

Sweet Neil Patrick Harris in a harness, because "fuck" sometimes isn't enough. "Deke".

probably because it’s feeding time at Jurassic Park.

The character of Superman is a rebuttal of Lord Acton's famous dictum: he has absolute power, but it does not corrupt him. Rather, his power grants him freedom from fear. This freedom allows him to be a superman, and to realize his potential by helping others.

Deke met them on the porch and led the way into the house. Taller than the Dawson brothers, he was every bit as handsome with thick brown hair that he wore long enough to be sexy, hazel eyes, and broad shoulders. Women tended to flock to him like a moth to a burning candle. But taming Deke would be harder than training a Dawson cowboy to the halter. He was full of tough cowboy charm, and it would take a special woman to rope him and get him aimed toward the altar.

Great emotional singing isn't a destination, it's a journey, one to be taken time and again to different places with different moods and different audiences.

There are times in life to play it safe. I'm sure you can think of several. Music is not one of them.

I'm not saying you have to learn Barbershop to be a great a cappella singer... but I am promising you if you do sing Barbershop, you'll be better than if you don't.

There is nothing more compelling than another person.

The most important thing is that singing is communication, and you need to say something honest and real.

The human voice was the first instrument and remains the most powerful and effective method of musical creation and emotional transference.

Deke Simmons, the kind of man who brought an extra napkin to sad films, found it amazing. Ellie Dockerty did not. I discovered something weird: women are better at keeping secrets, but men are better at dealing with them.

Čovjek bez ljubavi je kao beskućnik bez deke.

You can't create great vocal harmony without interpersonal harmony.

You don't deke Margaret.

The second Morgan son, Rick, had changed in more ways than Deke could count since he’d been shot six months ago. He’d taken medical leave and gone back to school. “Near death experiences,” he’d said, “have a way of lining up all the stray ducks in your life.

I crash into an invisible wall as Deke walks through the doorway. I watch as he continues to the elevator and hops on. Meanwhile, I'm banging against the invisible wall. I probably look like a mime pretending to be stuck in a box. Hey, have we ever stopped to think, maybe they are actually stuck in a box and they're ghosts trying to escape? Well, there's some food for thought. "Well, that's an interesting development, guess you're stuck with me, Casper." Well, crap-sticks.

She wanted to tame you. I want to see what you can do. I wanna see the real you. All of you. I know I could never win against you, Deke, but I don’t want you to hide. Not from me.

It was easy to get everyone on board with driving out difference when you started with something like vampires. Easy to dehumanize them, right? That's the stuff I grew up being taught - that it doesn't matter who it starts with, hate is hungry, and if you don't do something to stop it, it eats everyone.

No one should have to turn themselves into an attraction so they can keep living where they've always lived.

We let them tell us vampires were the problem, and if we'd just get rid of them, the world would be totally better. But then they said wait, it's not really vampires, it's the Jews. And then it's not really the Jews, it's this group. Or that group. Or immigrants. Every time the world doesn't get better, they just draw a new line between who's good and an entire group of people who are suddenly 'monsters.' And we all get so scared that there's a new monster in our midst, don't we? So scared that we rush to join the side of those who would 'protect' us from the monsters that they themselves invented. I'm just staying the stuff that hurt your mom is the same stuff that hurt my people is the same stuff that wiped out the vampires, and if you don't do anything about it, eventually that line's going to be drawn to keep you out.

All right,” I said. “What are you and Deke doing?” She looked at me with a repeat of the bad-lemon glare she’d given Deke. “We,” she said with a distaste that matched her expression, “are going to hit the last three names on the list from that dentist. The guys who had the vampire fangs put in.” She glanced again at Deke and then away, clamping her jaw tight. “Somebody knows,” she said. “Goddamn it, one of those boys knows something, and we’re going to get it from him.” “All right,” Deke said softly.

Hey,” he said, and we all turned to look at him. Deke nodded at the floor. “The lady fainted,” he said, and we all turned to look where he had nodded. Mrs. Aldovar, as advertised, was out cold on the floor.

FOR A VERY LONG MOMENT WE ALL STOOD IN A FROZEN tableau of hostile indecision. Debs and Recht stared at each other, Deke breathed through his mouth, and I tried to decide whether assisting the fallen woman was technically within my jurisdiction as a blood-spatter analyst. And then there was a clatter at the front door and I heard a minor commotion behind me. “Shit,” a male voice called out, quite clearly. “Shit, shit, shit.” It was impossible to argue with the general sentiment, but nevertheless I turned around to see if I could gather some specifics. A middle-aged man hurried toward us. He was tall and soft-looking and had close-cropped gray hair and a matching beard. He slid to one knee beside Mrs. Aldovar and picked up her hand. “Hey, Emily? Honey?” he said as he patted her hand. “Come on, Em.” I

It’s always nice to have a question answered, and now I knew. Apparently, it actually was within my jurisdiction to help women who faint at a crime scene. So I squatted down beside Mrs. Aldovar, and Deborah led Mr. Aldovar off to one side. Deke looked at me anxiously, reminding me very much of a large and handsome dog who needs a stick to fetch. “Hey, you got some of that smelling stuff?” he said. Apparently it had become universally accepted that Dexter was the Eternal Keeper of the Smelling Salts. I had no idea where that baffling canard had come from, but in truth, I was completely without. Luckily,

Fuck you,” Alvarez said. Deke snorted, either a laugh, or perhaps some small particle of food had gotten flossed out and become lodged in his nose.

IF THE MAN WHO CAME THROUGH THE DOOR FIRST WAS Mr. Spanos, then Tyler’s father was a twenty-eight-year-old bodybuilder with a ponytail and a suspicious bulge under his left arm. That would have meant he fathered Tyler at the age of ten, which seemed to be pushing the envelope, even in Miami. But whoever this man was, he was very serious, and he looked the room over carefully, which included glaring at me and Deke, before he stuck his head back into the hall and nodded. The next man into the room looked a little bit more like you would hope a teenage girl’s father might look. He was middle-aged, relatively short, and a little chubby, with thinning hair and gold-rimmed glasses. His face was sweaty and tired and his mouth hung open as if he had to gasp for breath. He staggered into the room, looked helplessly around for a moment, and then stood in front of Deborah, blinking and breathing heavily. A

I’m on it,” Deke said. He looked at me and winked. “Show a little initiative here, right?” he said. He cocked a finger-pistol at me and dropped the thumb. “Boom,” he said, smiling as he turned away, and as he sauntered out the door he very nearly collided with Hood, who pushed past him and came over to our little group with a very large and unattractive smirk on his face. “You are in the presence of greatness,” he said to Debs.

And for all we know,” Vince added, “it doesn’t really do anything. Maybe somebody just thought it was cool to mix it in there.” Deborah looked at Vince for a long moment. “Do you have any idea how fucking lame that sounds?” she said. “Guy in Syracuse smoked some,” Deke said. “He tried to flush himself.” He looked at the three of us staring at him and shrugged. “You know, in the toilet.” “If I lived in Syracuse, I’d flush myself, too,” Deborah said. Deke held up both hands in an eloquent whatever gesture. “Ahem,” I said, in a valiant attempt to keep us on topic. “The real point here is not why they used it, but that they did use it. Considering the size of the crowd, they used a lot of it. Probably more than once. And if somebody is using it in quantities that large—” “Hey, we should find the dealer easy,” Deke said.

1993. It

He’d had his own book published, Across the High Frontier—the one years before The Right Stuff or Yeager!—so he wasn’t shy when it came to publicity.

bullshit.” “I wish. I just got off the phone with her so-called lawyer—Deke Meyer. They want to work out a deal so that Mimi can be

I’m on it,” Deke said. He looked at me and winked. “Show a little initiative here, right?” he said. He cocked a finger-pistol at me and dropped the thumb. “Boom,” he said, smiling as he turned away, and as he sauntered out the door he very nearly collided with Hood, who pushed past him and came over to our little group with a very large and unattractive smirk on his face. “You are in the presence of greatness,” he said to Debs. “I am in the presence of two nerds and an asshole,” Debs said. “Hey,” Vince objected. “We’re not nerds; we’re geeks.

She was already moving down the hall in the opposite direction from Deke, and so once again any protest I might have made was largely irrelevant. I sighed and followed, wondering if Deborah had learned this kind of behavior, perhaps from a book called The Management Style of Bulldozers. I

Yeah,” she said. The doors slid shut and we lurched down. “Nimnut talked to Tiffany Spanos about her sister.” I assumed Nimnut meant Deke, so I just nodded. “Tiffany says that Tyler has been into that Goth shit for a while, and then she met this guy at a party who was, like, Goth squared.” I

Still, I really was on the spot, and I had to try. So I took a deep breath and tried to put away all my brand-new emotions. I laid down my kit and knelt beside the ravaged body of Deke Slater, looking carefully at the wounds on the face and arms, almost certainly caused by human teeth and showing some dried blood—which meant the wounds had been made while his heart was still pumping. Eaten alive. There were traces of blood starting where the stake punctured the chest and running all over the exposed torso, indicating that he had also been alive briefly after they had pounded it in. Probably the blood had soaked his shirt, which was why they removed it. Or maybe they just liked his abs. That would explain why several mouthfuls of them were missing. Around

She's a big girl, Syd, and Deke is not an ogre. He doesn't eat little pixies for breakfast and pick his teeth with their bones.

There were protocols to meet for the historic occasion. On the lunar dust they placed mementoes for the five-deceased American and Soviet spacemen, Gus Grissom, Ed White, Roger Chaffee, Vladimir Komarov, and Yuri Gagarin (who died in a plane crash in 1968). They unsheathed a metal disc on the descent stage with engraved messages to future moon visitors. As Neil Armstrong read the plaque’s words, his voice carried throughout the world. “Here men from the planet Earth first set foot upon the moon, July 1969, AD. We came in peace for all mankind.” There was yet another small cargo—private and precious—carried by Neil Armstrong to the moon. It was not divulged at the time, but he carried the diamond-studded astronaut pin made especially for Deke Slayton by the three Apollo 1 astronauts and presented to him by their widows after that dreadful fire.

When heavy cloud decks enveloped the planet, they created a whole new surface that had never before existed, of high mountain ranges, tumbling ravines. Sometimes the clouds would create huge cliffs, sheer walls miles high into which shadows fell to give them a startling sense of solidity, as though the whiteness below was some Antarctic winter mountain scene now spread across all the visible world. No oceans, no land surface, only that startling, shifting panorama, and then, suddenly, it became something else. Ethereal clouds. Some were misty, others wispy, but most were ghostlike. They appeared everywhere or strangely vanished, then showed up again, brushing the edges of islands and the shores of continents. They were members of the cloud family, a living race dancing and floating above the planetary surface. Astonished, awed, he had the strangest thought that perhaps this is what the angels could see . . . Deke gloried

But of all that he saw, what gripped him the most were the light flashes in the darkened atmosphere that he had seen before—but always high, high above him. Meteors blazing through the atmosphere, shooting stars beneath him, the fireflies of space dashing blindly through cremation. Then came the moment. Deke would never forget it. He became part of a wonder that opened all space to him. Meteors flashed in greater number than he had yet seen, the spattered debris of ancient planetary formation and collisions of rock consumed by the atmosphere of Earth. Something he could not measure in size, but unquestionably large, perhaps even huge, rushed at earth with tremendous velocity. The meteor hurtled in toward his home planet, but at an angle that would send it skimming along the upper reaches of the atmosphere, almost parallel with earth’s surface below. Deke first saw the intruder when it punched deep enough into earth’s air ocean, grazing the edges of the atmosphere with a speed he could not judge, except that it was a rogue body, gravity-whipped to tremendous velocity. It tore into thin air; instantly its outer surface began to burn, its front edges blazing like a giant welding torch gone mad. It skipped along the atmosphere and gained an upward thrusting lift, like a flat rock hurled across smooth water. Deke gazed in wonder at the sight and watched the burning invader continue its journey along the atmosphere and then flash beyond. Away now from the clutches of air, still burning, it left behind an ionized trail of particles and superheated gases. Now away from Earth, it lofted high and far until it raced beyond Earth’s shadow. Sunlight flashed through the ionized trail, and the departing mass created its own record of passage, enduring long enough for Deke to watch until the last flicker, the final gleam, was gone. He felt he should not lower his gaze. His vision moved along the arrowing path of the now invisible wanderer of the solar system, and Deke stared, unblinking, as the mass of stars in his own galaxy shone down on him, an uncountable array of suns, stars he knew were smaller than his own sun, many vastly greater in size and energy, but all members of the great pin-wheeled Milky Way of which Deke and his world were one tiny member. He was

You know, you’re only as sick as your secrets,” Deke said. “Easy for you to say; you don’t know my secrets.” The

....but my dad was kind of a travelin' man too, and he liked his family with him, so he almost always took us along." News Deke did not like to hear because she said it not like she missed having roots while growing up but like she liked being a tumbleweed as long as she was tumbling close to someone she love.

Deke smiled at the long, straight highway ahead of him. “Then again, I’d give it all up if I could have what Fiona and Jud have. Or Allie and Blake or Toby and Lizzy. All of them make my heart hurt to have someone to go home at night to like they do,” he said. “I should have listened to Granny Irene when she kept telling me that I couldn’t find a woman to settle down with in the bars.” Cheyenne, Wyoming, was bitter cold that night when he stopped at a small motel with a neon sign that said truckers were welcome. That usually meant they wouldn’t fuss about a dog, and besides it was past nine o’clock. The manager was most likely eager to rent out whatever rooms he could at that point. “Help you, sir?” An older lady looked up from the check-in desk. “Just need a room. Be out early in the morning, but I do have a dog. He’s housebroken and old, so he won’t cause any damage.” “Ten-dollar fee for any animals. It’s not one of those yippy little dogs, is it? I only got one room left and it’s right next door to an elderly couple. Wouldn’t want them calling me because your dog barked

won’t let me just use my own name as my username.” “Yeah, probably because about nine hundred Brendan Taggarts joined before you.” “So what should I use?” “CaptainCutie69,” Fox spat out. “IGotCrabs4U,” Deke supplied. “SlipperyWhenWet.

It won’t let me just use my own name as my username.” “Yeah, probably because about nine hundred Brendan Taggarts joined before you.” “So what should I use?” “CaptainCutie69,” Fox spat out. “IGotCrabs4U,” Deke supplied. “SlipperyWhenWet.” Brendan stared. “You’re all fired. Go home.

I’m not a serial killer if that’s what you’re worried about.” “Well, I wasn’t, but now I am. What kind of person introduces themselves as not a serial killer? Like, you’re not gonna meet one who goes around saying ‘Hi, I’d like to wear your skin as a suit.

But there are no defenders. They let Damon skate right past them. He taps the puck back and forth, dekeing left and right. He fakes a shot. Their goaltender falls for it and drops to make the save.

She’s got any friends, I’m on the market,” Deke put in at this point,

Deke proposed a system which had been used in previous selections, and with minor modifications we agreed. It was a thirty-point system divided equally into three parts: academics, pilot performance, character and motivation. “Academics” was really a misnomer, as an examination of its components will reveal: IQ score—one point; academic degrees, honors, and other credentials—four points; results of NASA-administered aptitude tests—three points; and results of a technical interview—two points. Pilot performance broke down into: examination of flying records (total time, type of airplane, etc.)—three points; flying rating by test pilot school or other supervisors—one point; and results of technical interview—six points. Character and motivation was not subdivided, but the entire ten-point package was examined in the interview, and the victim’s personality was an important part of it. Hence, of the thirty points (the maximum a candidate could earn), eighteen could be awarded during the all-important interview. My recollection is that we spent an hour per man, using roughly forty-five minutes to quiz him and fifteen in a postmortem. We sat all day long in a stuffy room in the Rice Hotel, interviewing from early morning to early evening, for one solid week.

The lunar module would not be ready for its first flight test for four or five months, but they had a perfectly good Apollo, and Deke turned to Apollo 8 Commander Frank Borman, later saying, “The sonofabitch almost turned handsprings when I told him there was a possibility Apollo 8 would go all the way to the moon.

Deke, büyülenmiş gözlerle kadına bakıyordu. Hayatının geri kalanını nasıl geçirmek istediğini bilemem ama belli ki bu kadın, bir kadında aradığı tüm özelliklere sahipti. Bunda garip bir yan yok; Dean Martin'in bütün bilgeliğiyle dile getirdiği gibi "herkes birilerine aşık olur"...

I know the signs too well. Deke Alarie, my lead candidate for all things evil, is about to die.

we’ve got! Maybe better than all of them!” “Maybe,” Deke said shortly, starting

Oh the President promised more money, sure, Dieckman thought as he slumped in his chair, but how much of that’s actually going to get to us? The military’s going to be clamoring for more funds now with the Chinese fleet conducting military exercises off of Taiwan. Deke scratched out some rough figures for the mission

I bet old Cal would love to sink his teeth into this, he thought with a grin, provided he still has any. Deke picked up the phone and punched in his assistant’s extension. “Mattie, can you come in here for a minute?

Once I didn’t. Once, as I was told I should, I kept a “book” on all the players I knew, with notes about wrist shots, slap shots, backhands, quick releases or slow, glove side or stick side, high or low; about forehand dekes or backhand dekes, and before a game, I would memorize and rehearse all that was there. But when my body prepared for Thompson’s backhand before I knew it was Thompson, I realized that what was in my book, and more, was stored away in my mind and muscles as nerve impulses, ready, able to move my body before I could.