Ew People Quotes

Most of the people you read about being turned meet vamps in clubs or over the Internet...Ew, did you...?" "Yes, I met a vampire on the Internet, went to his evil love den, and let him turn me, because I'm that brainless.

Life itself and who people actually are can be greatly reflected in how they dance. And I don't mean how good you are. I mean your willingness to dance. You can kinda tell if you go to a house party and there's this group of people over here who are too cool for school and they're over here and they're like 'oh those people are dancing so ew. So weird that they're like dancing'. Those people, I don't feel like, are having as good a time as the people they're making fun of. The people who don't care how they look dancing cause they like dancing. Basically, I love the idea that you can tell who someone is by how they dance.

And I like the light-up.” “The what?” “The light-up,” he’d say. “You know, that look people get when they finally realize you’re for real. It’s like electricity. It makes me tingle all over. Like a blanket full of static.” Ew. “Really? I’ve never heard that.” “Yeah, and I like it when people realize we’re out here.” I leaned in close once and asked him, “Do you want your mom to realize you’re out here? Do you want her to know?” “Nah. It took her too long to get over me.” All in all, he was a good kid.

Survivor: Lilly: A sickening attempt by the media to draw viewers by pandering to the lowest common denominator and appealing to the public’s enjoyment of watching others being exploited and humiliated. 0/10 Mia: Yeah. And who wants to watch people eat bugs? Ew!!!! 0/10

God has spoken, " at sundry times" as well as in. "diverse manners" And if we are to understand what He has spoken we must learn to distinguish, not only the various peoples whom He has spoken, but "the sundry times" at which He has spoken to them, and also the. "diverse manners".

I was about to speak when Kane suddenly said, “Did you just pee?” I scrunched up my face in disgust. “Ew. No. Why would you ask that?” “The water got a little warmer all of a sudden.” I frowned. “I didn’t wee.” “It’s okay if you did—” “Kane.” I cut him off. “I didn’t wee.” He grinned teasingly at me. “There are two types of people in the world, those who pee in the shower, and those who lie about it.

I know that gen Z has it tough—they’re losing their proms and graduations to the quarantine, they’re on deck to bear the full brunt of climate catastrophe, and they’re inheriting a carcass of a society that’s been fattened up and picked clean by the billionaire class, leaving them with virtually no shot at a life without crushing financial and existential anxiety, let alone any fantasy of retiring from their thankless toil or leaving anything of value to their own children. That’s bad. BUT, counterpoint! Millennials have to deal with a bunch of that same stuff, kind of, PLUS we had to be teenagers when American Pie came out!... American Pie absolutely captivated a generation because my generation is tacky as hell. “I have a hot girlfriend but she doesn’t want to have sex” was an entire genre of movies in the ’90s. In the ’90s, people loved it when things were “raunchy” (ew!). Every guy at my high school wanted to be Stifler! Can you imagine what that kind of an environment does to a person? To be of the demographic that has a Ron Burgundy quote for every occasion, without the understanding that Ron Burgundy is a satire? This is why we have Jenny McCarthy, I’m pretty sure, and, by extension, the great whooping cough revival of 2014. Thanks a lot, jocks!

Preferential tributes of respect in words and manners even to those who have no authority in the State - reverences, obeisances (compliments) and courtly phrases marking with the utmost precision every distinction in status (something altogether different from courtesy, which must also be reciprocal) - the Du, Er, Ihr and Sie, or Ew. Wohledeln, Hochedeln, Hochedelgeborenen, Wohlgeborenen (ohe, iam satis est!) as forms of address, a pedantry in which the Germans seem to outdo any other people in the world (except possibly the Indian castes): does not all this prove that there is a widespread propensity to servility in men? But one who makes himself a worm cannot complain if people step on him.

The spectrum of hatred against “irregardless” might be unmatched. Everyone claims to hate the word “moist,” but the dislike is general and jokey: ew, gross, “moist,” bleh. People’s hatred of “irregardless” is specific and vehemently serious: it cannot mean “without regard to” but must mean “with regard to,” so it’s nonsensical and shouldn’t exist; it’s a double negative and therefore not allowable by anyone with sense and judgment; it’s a redundant blend of “irrespective” and “regardless,” and we don’t need it; it is illogical and therefore not a word; it is a hallmark of uneducated speech and shouldn’t be entered into the dictionary. All of these complaints point in one direction: “irregardless” is evidence that English is going to hell, and you, Merriam-Webster, are skipping down the easy path, merrily swinging the handbasket. The truth is I felt for the complainant. “Irregardless” was just wrong, I thought—I knew this deep down at a molecular level, and no dictionary entry was going to convince me otherwise. But sharing my personal linguistic beef with the world was not part of the job, so I buttoned my yap and answered the correspondence. Yes, it’s entered, I said, but please note that it’s marked “nonstandard” (which is a fancy way of saying it’s not accepted by most educated speakers of English) and we have a very long usage paragraph after the one-word definition that explains you should use “regardless” instead. We are duty-bound to record the language as it is used, I concluded, gritting my teeth and mentally sprinkling scare quotes throughout the entire sentence.

Ew. Can you not talk about my dad ogling people? Scarlett Johansson may be gorgeous, but still.” “It’ll be a challenge, but I think I can refrain from licking the screen,” Brendan deadpanned, placing the wine bottle on the coffee table next to the bowl of popcorn before settling into the chair where he’d been working on his computer earlier. “Ew! Dad!

Ooh!” Willy pipes up. “Maybe he'll write a story about Santa and Mrs. Claus getting caught with their pants down with other people. If we get lucky, maybe he'll kill-” “Don't finish that sentence, elf.” “Randy, you're such a spoilsport. You can't say you haven't conjured up that scenario in your big head a time or a dozen. Continue. Maybe I'll write that story.” “No, you won't. Your idea of a good story is nothing but sex, sex, and more sex. You'd never make it through writing a chapter because you'd have to stop and jerk off a half dozen times.” “Ew! Not about Santa and Mrs. Claus. Yuck,” Willy comes back at him with a sour look on his face. “That's not even funny, Randy.

The duke raises his arm and sort of flicks his wrist, and they swoop into action, coming at me with a platter full of food. The first guy is holding a tower of eggs. Ew. I don’t do eggs. “Oh, um, no thank you, I’m not an egg person.” All noise stops. Everyone stares at me. Am I not supposed to talk to the servants? I smile weakly at the duke and his mother as the servant walks away, and another approaches with ham. I clamp my mouth shut as he plops a hearty portion down on my plate. My mouth is suddenly very dry. I turn to the servant standing motionless behind me. “Can I get some water?” Yeah. Definitely not supposed to talk to them. The guy’s eyes flicker over to the old lady, as if he needs permission to get me some water. “There is lemonade in front of you,” the old lady says. “Oh.” Is that what that is? I take a quick swallow and try not to choke. This obviously is not Country Time, if you know what I mean. I was starving ten minutes ago, but now that I’m sitting in the same room as these weird people, my appetite is gone. This breakfast needs to be over, stat. I can barely keep up with the glove and servant etiquette; I’m bound to screw something up. I need to maintain my fake identity, wrangle a ride to town, and say sayonara.

Our youngest writer was Donald Glover. He had just graduated from NYU’s writing program and was still living in a dorm and working as an RA. Donald was our only African American writer at the time, but his real diversity was that he was our only “cool young person” who could tell us what the “kids were listening to these days.” Also, because he came from a large family in Georgia, he was very helpful in writing for the character Kenneth the Page. MVP joke: a scene where Jenna (Jane Krakowski) is trying to teach Kenneth (Jack McBrayer) how to brag about himself in a passive-aggressive way. JENNA Not even a “back door” brag? KENNETH What’s a “back door” brag? JENNA It’s sneaking something wonderful about yourself into everyday conversation. Like when I tell people, “It’s hard for me to watch ‘American Idol,’ because I have perfect pitch.” KENNETH Oh… ew. JENNA Now you try. KENNETH It’s hard for me to watch “American Idol” ’cause there’s a water bug on my channel changer. It’s hard for me to pinpoint what I like most about that joke. Is it that Kenneth is truly incapable of bragging? The revelation that Kenneth’s apartment is crawling with water bugs? No, I think it’s the use of the grandmotherly expression “channel changer.

[F]ew people have never hurt anyone or been guilty of any serious lapse [...]

Some people are good at taking a Pause to put the strategy together, identify all the things there are to Think of, and make contingency plans. But when it comes to actually executing, there’s a block. Before I take this step, did I think through everything that could possibly go wrong? More Pausing. More Thinking. More analysis. They get paralyzed in the details. They Pause too long. They Think too much. And they never take any Action. Maybe you can relate to this? You want everything to be just right before you move forward. Or maybe you have the opposite problem—you Act hastily without Pausing or Thinking at all! That’s what one client told me recently: “Darcy, I realized that I do it backward. I Act, and then I Pause and Think, Ew, I shouldn’t have done that!

That was a good shot. Real proper backhanded compliment. “Ouch. Okay. No. I just legitimately don’t think I fall under the urban dictionary definition of ‘cool’.” He laughed, “Who does?” I looked him over pointedly. “Hello?” “Naw, you think I’m cool?” I rolled my eyes. “I think the rest of the school thinks so.” “They might think you are if you gave them a chance.” “Firstly, ew. No thank you. Secondly, if I have to talk to people, no.” “Of course not. We wouldn’t want to run the risk of social interaction, now. Would we?” I gave him a smile. “See? You get it.

I always thought that two become one flesh was more literal than most people take it.” I put a hand up against the cool window glass. “You exchange DNA during sex, although the balance of that goes male to female. Also, your microbiome melds, so your gut bacteria are pretty much the same across populations in a married couple.” “Shee-yit.” His accent came out stronger than I’d heard it before. “Oh, hell, now I can’t help thinking about that. Ew, woman, that’s disgusting.

Bathtubs were rare in the Wild West. In 1871, Tucson, Arizona boasted 3,000 people, a newspaper, a brewery, two doctors, several saloons—but just one bathtub. Pee-ew!

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Guh! Why did you give me this?” I fought back a laugh. “Some people like licorice.” “Disgusting.” His jaw worked. “It’s in my teeth! What is this zh’ūltis food?

War-time Japan was an unbelievable utopia; a certain empty beauty pervaded it throughout. This was not the beauty of human truth. So long as ew forget to think, we can easily find in this sight an unsurpassable show of nonchalance and magnificence. Even with the unceasing fear of bombings, people were always nonchalant just so long as they didn't think and needed only to gave entranced. I too was one of those fools. In all innocence, I was playing with the war,

You’re here! You’re really here! I thought you wouldn’t come,” she said ecstatically. She threw her arms around Honesty’s shoulders. “You said you wouldn’t come anymore, Honesty. You said you were going to get a job.” “I need to get fed, don’t I. I’m a growing man,” said Honesty, who had gone red staring at Camilla, who loitered in the foyer a little way away from them. “Get out of it, Nona, stop being in love with me.” But she was already hugging Beautiful Ruby, who coped better with it, saying: “Nona, you crim! Did you really sneak off to the—” and for his pains was jabbed in the ribs by Honesty and Nona, so he said at the top of his voice, “Toilet,” and they all dissolved together into a huddle of whispers, with Kevin right at the bottom. “She doesn’t know! Don’t tell her,” hissed Nona. “Whew, lad, good save there,” said Honesty. “Don’t be sarcastic at me,” hissed Ruby. “It’s not my fault, I just wanted to know how Nona was, you know they could’ve still been getting her off the road with a spatula. I walk past that road and they’re cremating people, like, right there, I saw somebody’s arm.” “Ew,” said Kevin.