Koala Brothers Quotes

In any other fabric of space-time, my brother would have picked up Dee’s venereal disease-infested koala punt and run it straight down the line of vulgarity, all the way to the touchdown of tastelessness.

So this is our thing now?” I say, shouting over the blaring music. “You’re my little koala and I’m your eucalyptus tree?” Aloha giggles. “If eucalyptus trees get raging hard-ons, then yes.” “You think this is me with a raging hard-on? Sweetheart, this is me with a limp dick.

So this is our thing now?” I say, shouting over the blaring music. “You’re my little koala and I’m your eucalyptus tree?” Aloha giggles. “If eucalyptus trees get raging hard-ons, then yes.

I think I liked you better when you didn’t speak,” Pete says. Then he grins. I flip him the bird, and he flies at me, jumping on my back. He bounces up and down and leans over my shoulder so I can see his lips. “My feet are cold,” he says, batting his golden lashes at me. “You should carry me the rest of the way.” He’s latched onto me like a koala. And he’s fucking heavy. It’s like carrying a load of bricks. But I hitch him up higher and start walking. Sam turns his back to Kit and bends down. “You look tired, Kit,” he says. “Want a ride?” He waggles his eyebrows at her. She laughs and jumps onto his back. “I’m not sure I got the good end of this deal,” I croak as we all walk along together.

What? No piggyback?” I hobble outside. “Don’t baby koalas cling to their mom’s backs, Grace? I’d let you hop on, but you’d have to call me Daddy.

The Bodyguard and the Hula Girl He’s my boy toy And I’m his hula girl. He’s Mister Bodyguard And I’m a kitten’s breath away From falling hard. Or maybe just falling Into the abyss And selfishly using his bright smile and kiss As a breathing apparatus. Am I toying with this boy’s heart? I don’t mean to do it, if I am, Honestly. But, yeah, probably, I am. Because it comes so naturally to me To tease and please, so damned easily That I might not even know it If indeed I’m performing Or otherwise committing a sin or misdeed. Is this a yarn I’m spinning Or a true story with a perfect beginning? If this is a dream, then don’t wake me from it, Please. And if it’s more than that, If it’s genuine reality, Then teach me how to believe it, To know for certain when a romance goes From ephemeral to irrevocable, Fictional to factual, When a fairytale becomes dependable and actual, Rather than merely hormonal and situational. Yes, I’ve been playing with my boy toy, I’m sure of it now, All the while praying I don’t break him Or make him hate me Or leave me, Or, God forbid, go back to Daphne. That bitch. But is she really more of a bitch than me? Because I’ve been playing with my boy toy Shamelessly, All the while closing my eyes and praying That when he finds out The Package Ain’t what she’s cracked up to be He’ll still somehow, miraculously, Inexplicably... For reasons that will surely escape me... Reject the fate of poor Kevin and Whitney And decide to stay with me, His fucked-up hula girl, His koala in a eucalyptus tree, His clingy baby monkey. And by “stay,” by the way, I mean to say not just for a tour, But until a far-away day... As far away as... Maybe... Dare I say it... At the risk of sounding silly or naïve Or even flat-out crazy... An eternity?