Killer Mike Quotes

The older I get, the more of an anarchist I become, and I don’t mean in a punk rock way.

People loved their dramatic exits.

You got to the BAU because they didn’t want you anywhere else. So get over the size of your penis or your bed-wetting issue or whatever it is you’re compensating for, and man up. If you want me to back you up, you’ll have to keep up with me. And I move fast.

You still want that little secret to stay secret?” “You wouldn’t.” “You’re right, I wouldn’t. Not unless I heard you talked. In which case, all bets would be off.” “You’re a fucking bastard, Nick. I thought you were better than—” “I’m a paid killer, Mike. What the fuck were you expecting?

the vegetables had been frozen and defrosted so many times they had the texture of a napkin.

The more closely something artificial resembled a human, the more alien it seemed.

if life gave you lemons, you made lemonade. You didn’t go trading the lemons for papayas.

She had tried yoga, meditation, running, and swimming. So far, nothing cleansed the soul better than a Snickers

She had managed to creep out a man who performed autopsies for a living. Achievement unlocked.

She fed the papers two by two into the slot, enjoying the view of the papers turned into narrow white ribbons. Shredding was great. She should do it more often.

A bird in the hand was worth two in the bush. Unless it crapped on your fingers and pecked you. Some birds carried salmonella too.

These days, people gave birth to kids without taking responsibility for them. Instead, they lobbed their children onto society and then complained when crime rose or unemployment got worse.

He had been told by several people that he drank too much coffee, that it wasn’t good for him. As far as he was concerned, those people were just jealous and cranky because they didn’t drink enough coffee.

He was a nuanced mosaic of varied influences, pulling into one body the lush humility of southern rap stalwarts like OutKast and Goodie Mob, the lyrical dexterity of Nas and Eminem, and the straight-ahead tough talk of Pusha T and Killer Mike.

She had tried yoga, meditation, running, and swimming. So far, nothing cleansed the soul better than a Snickers bar. It was the ultimate therapy. It was cheap, and it could be carried in her bag. She drank a swig of beer. The tastes meshed well together. She was enjoying this dinner of Snickers à la Honker’s.

He had water in places he couldn’t even speak about in public. They were getting intimate, the rain and him. Much more intimate than Mikey and his current girlfriend were lately.

To Liora, for understanding that serial killers are a valid discussion for our anniversary vacation

This guy is a monster, Mike.”      “Yeah he is, but he looks like anyone. He can fit in, and he knows how to talk to people. He’s not the standard profile of the shy boy killer. He’s not afraid to talk to women.”      ”So he’s not Norman Bates,” Julia said.

As her thrashing weakened, he considered the mark the noose would leave. Initially, he had wished there would be no mark at all. But he now thought of it as his first gift, a beautiful necklace to signify their bond. Regular people used a ring around a finger. No wonder the divorce rate was so high.

The Doctor closed his eyes as the razor claws reached out through the rain, waiting for the killer blow. It never came. He opened one eye cautiously. The creature was staring at its claws, turning them this way and that. It looked down at the Doctor. ‘I think I chipped a nail.’ The Doctor blinked. ‘I’m sorry?’ ‘A nail. Look.’ It held out a claw. ‘And that head. Do you think it’s going to be fattening? You never know with foreign food, do you?

Mike’s eyebrows rose. “What did Cole say when you asked him about Lloth?” Raven wrung her hands in her apron. “Raven?” Mike growled. “We got…” She looked away and heat crept up her neck. “Distracted.” Mike groaned. “Are you kidding me? If you were in a horror movie, you’d be the one who’d jump in the serial killer’s truck.” “That’s not fair. While I admit, I occasionally have brain farts—” “Raven. Your brain doesn’t fart. It completely shits itself.” “That’s

KILLER BEE IS made with two tablespoons of honey, orange juice, club soda, passion fruit juice, black pepper, lime, and a healthy portion of light rum. The first sip is an explosion. After that

A few plays later, Emma ended up with the ball again. There seemed to be some kind of unspoken rule that everybody got a chance to make a play, even if they sucked. She was going to run, but then she saw Stephanie bearing down on her with that killer Kowalski spirt in her eyes and tossed the ball up in the air. Mitch—who hadn’t touched her since his first misguided tackle—snatched it out of the air and ran it back for a touchdown, much to the vocal dismay of her teammates. “You play football even worse than you drive,” Sean muttered. “Clearly, it’s my lack of—” He yanked her back against his body and wrapped his arms around her so he could whisper in her ear. “Don’t you dare say it.” She laughed and leaned back against his chest. “Don’t say what?” “If you mention the magic penis in front of these guys, I’ll never hear the end of it. Never. Hell, fifty years from now when our dicks are shriveled up and useless, they’ll still be cracking magic-penis jokes.” “What’s it worth to you?” He tightened his arms around her and nuzzled her hair. “What are you looking to get?” She turned her head so her lips were almost touching his cheek and dropped her voice down into the sexy bedroom range. “I want…to drive home.” He snorted. “Figures.” “Just imagine Mike all old and decrepit and toothless leaning on his walker cackling and shouting, ‘Hey, Sean, how’s the magic penis hanging?’” “Okay, you win. You can drive.

I’m Captain Florida, the state history pimp Gatherin’ more data than a DEA blimp West Palm, Tampa Bay, Miami-Dade Cruisin’ the coasts till Johnny Vegas gets laid Developer ho’s, and the politician bitches Smackin’ ’em down, while I’m takin’ lots of pictures Hurricanes, sinkholes, natural disaster ’Scuse me while I kick back, with my View-Master (S:) I’m Captain Florida, obscure facts are all legit (C:) I’m Coleman, the sidekick, with a big bong hit (S:) I’m Captain Florida, staying literate (C:) Coleman sees a book and says, “Fuck that shit” Ain’t never been caught, slippin’ nooses down the Keys Got more buoyancy than Elián González Knockin’ off the parasites, and takin’ all their moola Recruiting my apostles for the Church of Don Shula I’m an old-school gangster with a psycho ex-wife Molly Packin’ Glocks, a shotgun and my 7-Eleven coffee Trippin’ the theme parks, the malls, the time-shares Bustin’ my rhymes through all the red-tide scares (S:) I’m the surge in the storms, don’t believe the hype (C:) I’m his stoned number two, where’d I put my hash pipe? (S:) Florida, no appointments and a tank of gas (C:) Tequila, no employment and a bag of grass Think you’ve seen it all? I beg to differ Mosquitoes like bats and a peg-leg stripper The scammers, the schemers, the real estate liars Birthday-party clowns in a meth-lab fire But dig us, don’t diss us, pay a visit, don’t be late And statistics always lie, so ignore the murder rate Beaches, palm trees and golfing is our curse Our residents won’t bite, but a few will shoot first Everglades, orange groves, alligators, Buffett Scarface, Hemingway, an Andrew Jackson to suck it Solarcaine, Rogaine, eight balls of cocaine See the hall of fame for the criminally insane Artifacts, folklore, roadside attractions Crackers, Haitians, Cuban-exile factions The early-bird specials, drivin’ like molasses Condo-meeting fistfights in cataract glasses (S:) I’m the native tourist, with the rants that can’t be beat (C:) Serge, I think I put my shoes on the wrong feet (S:) A stack of old postcards in another dingy room (C:) A cold Bud forty and a magic mushroom Can’t stop, turnpike, keep ridin’ like the wind Gotta make a detour for a souvenir pin But if you like to litter, you’re just liable to get hurt Do ya like the MAC-10 under my tropical shirt? I just keep meeting jerks, I’m a human land-filler But it’s totally unfair, this term “serial killer” The police never rest, always breakin’ in my pad But sunshine is my bling, and I’m hangin’ like a chad (S:) Serge has got to roll and drop the mike on this rap . . . (C:) Coleman’s climbin’ in the tub, to take a little nap . . . (S:) . . . Disappearin’ in the swamp—and goin’ tangent, tangent, tangent . . . (C:) He’s goin’ tangent, tangent . . . (Fade-out) (S:) I’m goin’ tangent, tangent . . . (C:) Fuck goin’ platinum, he’s goin’ tangent, tangent . . . (S:) . . . Wikipedia all up and down your ass . . . (C:) Wikity-Wikity-Wikity . . .

took the opportunity to bound three steps ahead and turn into the next aisle. My gun was up and on target, and I could see Diego on the ground. But he had anticipated what I was going to do and had his pistol up. He fired one round, which went slightly to the left and struck the shelf right next to my head. Instinctively I squeezed the trigger twice at the target directly in front of me. It was a simple double tap. Bang, bang. For an instant, I could see the look in Diego’s eyes. Then he fell back and dropped the gun onto the floor. I immediately holstered my pistol and dropped to my knee. I reached down and pulled his thick T-shirt up over his stomach and chest to see two wounds just above his sternum. Blood was already starting to pump out. I placed my palms over each hole, hoping to stem the blood flow. The young man made a gurgling sound and tried to lift his head off the floor. I yelled out, “I need some help here.” A few seconds later, Todd appeared at my side. He said, “Fire and rescue is on the way. What do you need me to do?” “Help me stop the bleeding on one of these wounds.” Todd didn’t move. He put his hand on my shoulder instead. “Mike, it’s over. You did what you had to do.” I looked down and saw that Diego was perfectly still. I felt for a pulse at his chest and then at his neck. No more blood was pumping out of the wounds. He was dead. I flopped back, and my shoulders hit the bookshelf. I sat there staring down at the teenager I had just shot dead. From the end of the aisle a woman’s voice said, “You murdered him.” My head snapped in that direction. It was a young woman, and she was staring at me. A young man joined her and said, “You shot him for no reason?” Before fire and rescue and more cops could show up, a small crowd gathered, and they all picked up a similar theme. They thought I had acted rashly and fired my weapon without provocation. They thought I was some kind of monster. Once someone was there to secure the scene and Todd was leading me toward an office where I could gather my thoughts, I kept hearing people say, “Murderer.” “Killer.” Todd kept his arm on my shoulder and said, “Don’t worry about these ignorant morons. One thing I’ve learned working here is that I’m never surprised to see smart people acting like idiots. They have no idea you just saved their asses.

can currently be found penning the next in his

the uncanny valley. The more closely something artificial resembled a human, the more alien it seemed.

Nick Cave’s

I read a lot of mystery books, and half the time I can guess who the killer is before the detective does.

I honestly don’t know which is worse,’ her tone was despairing. ‘Mike bouncing around the place like a hyperactive Don Juan on steroids, or mooning about like Casanova with erectile dysfunction.

He had been told by several people that he drank too much coffee, that it wasn’t good for him. As far as he was concerned, those people were just jealous and cranky because they didn’t drink enough coffee. Wilma’s

The embalming fluid promised eternity, but the saline solution added flexibility. A good relationship had to be flexible.

And I still had all my fingers even if they hurt like hell. I began crawling back toward the island, the killer, and my fate.

The man’s screams are busting my fucking eardrums and that irritates me to unbearable levels. “Mike,” I cut in. “Let him talk.” 
“Oh, he’s gonna talk,” he says assuringly. “Or I’m getting started on tearing the flesh from his puny dick.”
 Wow, okay.

happen

I was programmed by my adoptive mother, who instilled her love within me along with the belief that I could accomplish anything. Without her software, I could have been a criminal or a killer. With her software, I can be the leader of a solar system.

Know the victim, and you were already halfway to understanding the killer.

Some male vegetarians have described how their rejection of meat felt emasculating, since they were also rejecting the ancient male role of killer and griller. Vegetarians frequently try to counteract this feminine connotation by touting all the manly men who are vegetarian (Mike Tyson!). One article even profiled a few masculine kale-loving “hegans.” At the very least, the protestations to the contrary show that the perception exists.

He added more salt than the last time, hoping for better results. It was a delicate balance; he’d learned that the hard way. The embalming fluid promised eternity, but the saline solution added flexibility.

Aliza Kennedy. Kendele Byers. Tamay Mosely. There was a serial killer in Glenmore Park.

participating in mankind’s dumbest dance—rush hour.

Till death do us part” was an unambitious concept at best. True love should ascend beyond that point.

They promoted you to work in the BAU instead.” He smiled. “You keep saying that word. I don’t think you know what it means.” “What word? Promoted?” “I was just joking . . . never mind.

Power killer fantasies revolved around the sexual assault, and the murder was a byproduct of the assault. Anger killers were motivated by hatred and sadism.

Third in the list: pathological lying.

Parasitic

Glock 43.

More than a hundred years before, the German engineer Rudolf Diesel had invented something amazing called the combustion engine—a manmade engine that could propel a wheeled vehicle down a paved road at an incredible speed. And

His attacker disappeared from sight as Tatum bounded to his feet, his heart racing. He turned on the light and blinked. His ugly orange tomcat stared at him with disdain. “Damn it, Freckle!

else. So get over the size of your penis or your bed-wetting issue or whatever it is you’re compensating for, and man up. If you want me to back you up, you’ll have to keep up with me. And I move fast.” She stood up and stormed out of the restaurant. He could damn well pay for the tasteless chicken salad. She stomped down the street, feeling like she was fourteen again, that cop looking at her with a patronizing face. Listen, honey, leave the policing

Then he looked at the sad face he had drawn and, after a moment of thought, added a pair of glasses and three hairs.

Now it felt a bit more like a scorching ball of doom, peppering his skin with tumors.

The Magistrate has been watching this whole thing with the quiet amusement of Mike Brady watching his squabbling TV kids. Only this Mike’s kids are killers and Dad’s got a messiah complex.

design tastes. It looked like she was striving