Muppet Quotes

There's not a word yet, for old friends who've just met.

If it weren't for greed, intolerance, hate, passion and murder, you would have no works of art, no great buildings, no medical science, no Mozart, no Van Gogh, no Muppets and no Louis Armstrong.

A pixie's true skin color is blue. Cookie Monster, Grover, and other lovable Muppets are also blue. Do not confuse the two. Muppets don't kill you. Usually.

Kincaid! Bolshevik Muppet!

Only when the last tree has been cut down and the last river has dried up will man realise that reciting red indian proverbs makes you sound like a fucking muppet.

Cassandra,” he said, “I hope you know that poaching Muppets is illegal in this country.

Are you done acting like a psychotic, cracked-out Muppet baby?" he asked, and I could tell by the way his fingers spasmed around my wrists, he really wanted to shake me. "Or do you need a couple more moments to return to sanity? I have all day. And you actually feel kind of good under me, so take your time.

So we get a plan," I said. "Any suggestions?" "Blow up the building," Kincaid said without looking up. "That works good for vampires. Then soak what's left in gasoline. Set it on fire. Then blow it all up again." "For future reference, I was sort of hoping for a suggestion that didn't sound like it came from that Bolshevik Muppet with all the dynamite.

She'd even violated the only sensible rule of dieting she'd ever run across, the sage advice of the Muppets' Miss Piggy, who recommended never eating anything bigger than your head.

I guess I was wrong when I said I never promised anyone. I promised me.

I bet you're the type of guy not afraid of anything, huh?" "Oh, no, there are things that terrify me." "Like what?" "Muppets," came his solemn reply.

I hope that something better comes along.

What is it about the sight of your mother that makes everything fireside-warm and full of dancing Muppets?

Watch out for the icy patch

Riddles, I hate fucking riddles,” Ristan growled and shook his dark head. “Why couldn’t she have sent a minotaur, or maybe David Bowie and a bunch of Muppets to mess with us?

When Tana was six, vampires were Muppets, endlessly counting, or cartoon villains in black cloaks with red polyester lining.

Hip-hop has always been controversial, and for good reason. When you watch a children's show and they've got a muppet rapping about the alphabet, it's cool, but it's not really hip-hop. The music is meant to be provocative - which doesn't mean it's necessarily obnoxious, but it is (mostly) confrontational, and more than that, it's dense with multiple meanings. Great rap should have all kinds of unresolved layers that you don't necessarily figure out the first time you listen to it. Instead it plants dissonance in your head. You can enjoy a song that knocks in the club or has witty punch lines the first time you hear it. But great rap retains mystery. It leaves shit rattling around in your head that won't make sense till the fifth or sixth time through. It challenges you. Which is the other reason hip-hop is controversial: People don't bother trying to get it. The problem isn't in the rap or the rapper or the culture. The problem is that so many people don't even know how to listen to the music.

Someday we'll find it the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers and me

Are you done acting like a psychotic, cracked-out Muppet baby?” he asked (Hunter)

Elmo is telling kids about how great it is to share. Oh, Elmo, you poor, deluded little red fur ball. You don’t have a clue, do ya, li’l buddy? Kids are way meaner than Muppets.

Why couldn’t she have sent a minotaur, or maybe David Bowie and a bunch of Muppets to mess with us?

He is wearing a rugby shirt with numbers and a little man on a horse on his chest. Kent has told Elsa that this sort of shirt costs more than a thousand kronor, and Granny always used to say that those sorts of shirts were a good thing, because the horse functioned as a sort of manufacturer’s warning that the shirt was highly likely to be transporting a muppet.

You know, I believe it is possible to reference something other than Star Wars, boss.” I narrowed my eyes in Muppetly wisdom. “That is why you fail.

Special. Cute. Friends. He wished she'd just cut his testicles off and be done with it already. Depending on the next adjective she chose for him, he would either qualify as a card-carrying member of Emasculated Men's Club or a Muppet. No wonder he avoided love for as long as he had. When it went unrequited, it truly sucked.

Life is meant to be fun, and joyous, and fulfilling. May each of yours be that - having each of you as a child of mine has certainly been one of the good things in my life. Know that I've always loved each of you with an eternal, bottomless love. A love that has nothing to do with each other, for I feel my love for each of you is total and all-encompassing. Please watch out for each other and love and forgive everybody. It's a good life, enjoy it.

Can I call you Fozzie?” “Can I call you Evelyn?” “Not if you want me to answer.” “It’s safe to say, the same goes for calling me Fozzie. I’m not a Muppet.

Must love decorating for holidays, mischief, kissing in cars, and wind chimes. No specific height, weight, hair color, or political affiliation required but would prefer a warm spirited non racist. Cynics, critics, pessimists, and “stick in the muds” need not apply. Voluptuous figures a plus. Any similarity in look, mind set, or fashion sense to Mary Poppins, Claire Huxtable, Snow White, or Elvira wholeheartedly welcomed. I am dubious of actresses, fellons and lesbians but dont want to rule them out entirely. Must be tolerant of whistling, tickle torture, James Taylor, and sleeping late. I have a slight limp, eerily soft hands, and a preternatural love of autumn. I once misinterpreted being called a coal-eyed dandy as a compliment when it was intended as an insult. I wiggle my feet in my sleep, am scared of the dark, and think the Muppets Christmas Carol is one of the greatest films of all time. All I want is butterfly kisses in the morning, peanut butter sandwiches shaped like a heart, and to make you smile until it hurts.

If The Muppet Show had a basketball team, the score would always be Frog 99, Chaos 98." (Jerry Juhl on the crazy workload of The Muppet Show)

I don't know where the ideas come from. It's just a matter of us figuring out how to receive the ideas waiting to be heard Muppet Exhibit Seattle EMP Jim Henson

Bloody hell, mate, what happened to you?” he yelped. “You look like Quasimodo fucked a Muppet.

Is that a hat?" I asked, pouring eight rounds of batter into the griddle. She grinned at me. "A sweater." She held it up -- it was triangular, made of speckled brown and white mohair. "For...a Muppet?" I asked. "For the naked chicken," she said, and snickered.

She shouldn’t take any notice of what those muppets think, says Granny. Because all the best people are different – look at superheroes. After all, if superpowers were normal everyone would have them.

It’s true—there are only, like, two songs about rainbows, including that one. He should be asking why there are so few songs about rainbows.

Never eat more than you can lift.

I watched every episode of The Greatest American Hero, Airwolf, The A-Team, Knight Rider, Misfits of Science, and The Muppet Show.

Gene Simmons after three months in the Gobi Desert? The Hunchback of Notre Dame following corrective surgery? An escaped Muppet? The drummer from Ratt?

Think of this: If it weren’t for greed, intolerance, hate, passion and murder, you would have no works of art, no great buildings, no medical science, no Mozart, no van Gogh, no Muppets and no Louis Armstrong. The civilization that devises the infrastructure to allow these wonderful things to be created is essentially a product of war—death and suffering—and commerce—deceit and inequality. Even your liberty to discuss the shortcomings of your own species has its foundations in blood and hardship.” “That’s a depressing thought,

Her father thought Facebook was hilarious—“Six people liked what I had for breakfast. What a world!”—and her mother mostly used it to take personality quizzes. “Guess what?” she’d say, as though passing along hot intel. “If I were a Muppet, I’d be Gonzo.

Peoples is peoples. -Pete-

The older I get, the more I think I look like a Muppet. Cady vehemently disagrees with this assessment, but she’s fighting her own battle with this particular gene puddle.

This guy was like a sailor who had studied the compass and found that there was a fifth direction in which one could sail." (Jerry Juhl on being offered a job with Muppets, Inc.)

You see, not all of Henson’s projects made money. The Muppet Movie did, but The Muppets Take Manhattan didn’t.

he did his best Swedish Chef imitation, just to be saying something that sounded vaguely Scandinavian. Peter had always liked the Muppets.

The whole thing smelled like a thrift shop that had been baked in a low oven and felt like a too-tight and too-long hug by a rejected Muppet.

I am not ashamed to admit that I screamed like a child with three rhinos chasing her in an abandoned parking lot. I am also not ashamed to admit that I run like a Muppet, only slower.

As I try to zero in on what’s important for the Muppets,” Jim said years later, “I think it’s a sense of innocence, naiveté—you know, the experience of a simple person meeting life.” The

Kermit: Hey, Fozzie, I want you to turn left if you come to a fork in the road. Fozzie: Yes sir, turn left at the fork in the road. [drives past a giant fork] Fozzie: Kermit! Kermit: I don't believe that.

As each guest entered, they were handed a long wand—actually a puppeteer’s arm rod—with a bright foam butterfly attached at the end, one of the thousands put together by the Muppet Workshop over the last three days.

His sister, in a big turquoise Angora sweater, leaned upon the wood frame of the open nursery door, anxiously looking out to see if he was really going to show, beaming and waving like a pastel colored TV Muppet when she spotted him.

Lucas sneered. “Let’s try again, muppet. Officer Cokehead won’t allow Indie to breathe without him around. Apparently, we’re no longer allowed to hang out because of his small dick syndrome.” “Small dick!” Alex exclaimed, as if Lucas just told him the earth was flat. “My cock already made more money than you this year and will soon need a full staff to manage his career. Don’t you fucking disrespect him.” Was I really standing there listening to three grown-up British men discussing Alex’s penis?

Granny just say sorry for throwing turds at the police and we can go home. She snorts in the secret language, though still very expressly upset about the whole apartheid thing 'sorry' says granny in the secret language. 'To the police not to me, You muppet.

Ultimately, transhumanism is a spiritual orientation—not toward the transcendent Creator, but rather toward the created Machine. Think of it as a Disneyland ride where instead of praying for it to end, you pray to the animatronic muppets chattering around you in the hopes of becoming one of them.

Itchy, itchy, itchy, yo. Scratchy, scratchy, scratchy, yo. Itchy, itchy, itchy, yo. Poison summac daddy. Got an itch real baddy.

We either say 'I do,' or we say 'aideu'- for good.

Pepé interrupted. "What ees Barrel of Laughs?" Waldorf cracked, "One thing Fozzie will never be.

Curiosity killed the cat. Trust me," he said, drawing out each word, "you don't want to find out what it could do to the pig.

What a patsy I must be to let you mock me like this! I didn't know that women were so eager to make fools of us men." "Uh, I hate to break it to ya, but most of you are actually DIY types.

David Bowie could not only sing, he could also not act, and appeared in several films, playing the homesick alien title character in E.T., and a sort of Duran Duran fairy king in the family film Muppets Vs The Goblin Crotch. He even took over Christmas, singing a special carol with Bing Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, who’d forgotten the words, and being at the start of that cartoon about the snowman sometimes.

So you went back to your friend’s next donkament two weeks later, and this time you just laughed right along when they gave you that framed picture of the poker hands. And when they called you ‘pigeon,’ ‘fish,’ and ‘muppet,’ you just smiled and batted your eyes and said stupid things like ‘Does a straight beat a crooked?’ And while everyone else was throwing a party, you just sat there acting like a tourist with your kill stack until you were in the money. Those poor dills…they didn’t know what hit ‘em, did they?

Along with Batman v. Superman and Godzilla vs. Kong, I suppose we’ll get Frankenstein vs. Dracula, and perhaps Transformers vs. G.I. Joe in the HasbroVerse, and Warcraft vs. Angry Birds in the GameVerse — not to be confused with the BoardgameVerse of Battleship vs. Risk and Chutes and Ladders vs. Candy Land. And eventually all of these shared universes will collide with all of the others, including Alien vs. Predator and Freddy vs. Jason, in a Brobdingnagian rumble pitting Jedi against Pirates of the Caribbean, Terminators against Borg, and Muppets against Smurfs, world without end. Even if for some inexplicable reason that doesn’t happen, the LegoVerse will make it happen

For the bus ride, which Delaney estimated would be ninety minutes, she had prepared a mix of happy journeying music, which she activated as they pulled out of the campus gate. The first song was by Otis Redding, and the first message came via her phone. Woman-hater, it said, with a link to an unsigned and evidence-less post hinting that he had been unkind to an ex-girlfriend who he’d met shortly before the bay and the dock and the sitting. Thanks for the early-morning pick-me-up! the writer said, meaning that Delaney had ruined the day and tacitly endorsed Redding’s newly alleged misogyny. Delaney skipped to the next song, Lana Del Rey’s “High by the Beach,” and then quickly figured it was too big a risk so skipped ahead. The third song, the Muppets’ “Movin’ Right Along,” was unknown to most on the bus, and survived its three-minute length, during which a handful of passengers furiously tried to find a reason the song was complicit in evil committed or implied. Delaney skipped the next song, by Neil Diamond, thinking any Jewish singer dubious in light of the Israeli sandwich debacle, skipped songs six and seven (from Thriller), briefly considered the Ronettes’ “Be My Baby” but then remembered Phil Spector, and so finally settled on a young Ghanian rapper she’d recently discovered. His first song was hunted down quickly in a hail of rhetorical buckshot—as a teen, the rapper had zinged a borderline joke about his female trigonometry teacher—so Delaney turned off the shared music, leaving everyone, for the next eighty-one minutes, to their earbuds and the safety of their individualized solitude.

He wasn’t a stuffed animal because he wasn’t an animal and he wasn’t stuffed. He was a hand puppet. Similar to a Muppet. An ancestor to Elmo, with no lower body.

thin glasses that seemed to get lost on his wide red face. His balding forehead glared in the overhead lights. He reminded Bryan a little of that Muppet—the puffy-faced science guy with glasses but no eyeballs on his melon head. “For example, the next time that bell rings, all of you will immediately forget everything I’ve told you. You will scramble for your backpacks, and you will rush out that door without so much as a simple thank-you for all the mind-blowing knowledge I bestowed upon you today. You will do so mindlessly, as you have for the last several weeks of school, because it is a conditioned response. The bell is a stimulus and you are conditioned to act a certain way when you hear it.” Like ducking behind someone taller as soon as you spot Tank Wattly coming down the hall, Bryan thought. Or losing your ability to say anything witty or intelligent whenever this one girl in particular so much as looks at you. “We are all conditioned by our environment. We are all creatures of instinct, driven by our need to survive, but capable of learning through experience. In that way we are actually no different,” Tomlins said, reaching beneath him and pulling up a wire cage from under the table, “from mice.” Susan Onesacker screamed, but the rest of the class bent forward to get a better look at the tufts of white fur huddled against one another in the cage. There had to be at least a dozen of them in there. Beady little red eyes. Twitching noses. Some of the mice lifted their snouts to the air. Others started clawing to find an exit. They didn’t

Flailing like a long-limbed Muppet hopped up on sugar.

My PMS can be brutal: I transform from a pretty reasonable person into a black hole of doubt, despair, and existentially flailing Muppet arms.

In Ernie’s book I Don’t Want to Live on the Moon, the cover shows stars shining right through a crescent moon. And in a “C in space” segment, the moon looks surprisingly happy, despite the fact that these stars are shining through it. OK, yes, the moon having a face and emotions is not astronomically accurate either, but that is still no excuse for teaching children inaccurate geometry. I expect more from a supposedly “educational” program. The only explanation I can think of is that, in the extended Sesame Street universe, there are Muppet bases on the moon, and those are the dots of light we are seeing.

Meet The Feebles? That’s some sick fucking shit, man. I loved them both. That second one was like the Muppets on goddamned

Once, when I was little, I asked if he'd wandered out of The Muppets Christmas Carol by accident.

Film director Frank Oz (who’s also the Muppet master behind Yoda and Miss Piggy) has a term for this all-in state of mind. He calls it “going the distance.” This is the test Frank applies at the start of any project—not just to himself but to anyone he will prospectively hire or collaborate with on a movie, a play, whatever. Frank asks himself, “Will this person commit unconditionally to the work? Is this someone I can count on in act 3, when the wheels come off and the faint of heart flee for the exits? Is this someone who will have my back in crunch time?” We’re talking now about the third-level meaning of “Put your ass where your heart wants to be.” Commitment over time. Commitment in the face of adversity.

now they’re tittering about Paris, and their continuous snark mixed with cackles of laughter makes her think of the two hecklers, Statler and Waldorf, from The Muppet Show.

You're a Californian adult and you don't own a car? He raised an eyebrow. No I'm a bunch of Muppets in a trench coat. I don't know how it took you so long to figure that out.

You're a Californian adult and you don't own a car? He raised an eyebrow. No, I'm a bunch of Muppets in a trench coat. I don't know how it took you so long to figure that out.

New Zealand had taught me that I wanted a more outdoorsy lifestyle, ideally at the beach. In Detroit, I'd seen young people like me buying and fixing up their own homes, and I dreamed of owning my own flat, a flat that could handle a cat. The user-friendliness of a city like Glasgow had made me intolerant of London's lengthy commutes and sky-high rents, which I'd come to see as the enemy of creativity. I was never going to be able to take a gamble, and take a few months off paid commissions to write a book (this book), while I was frantically typing away, like a muppet at a piano, to scrape together the rent each month. I will always love London, and I owe the city a lot. My career as a writer is the greatest gift I've ever been given, and London gave me my career. But the other cities I'd seen, well, they'd made me realise there was more to life than London.

Wow, that was an expensive looking explosion! I can't believe we had that in the budget.

Fozzie Bear: [holds up a photo of Constantine] Check this out! [covers the mole] Walter: Oh, look, it's Kermit! [Fozzie uncovers the mole] Walter: [shrieks] What did you do with Kermit?

My comrade-in-arms, Einstein—part terrier, part Muppet, and so-named not for any propensity toward genius but rather for his unruly white curls—padded along beside me, ears and tail up, his nails clicking on the faded gray linoleum floor.

waved a pair of underwear at him. “Grown men do not wear boxers with the Muppets on them. When I’m about to give a blowjob, I don’t want to be suddenly confronted with Miss Piggy.

but aside from the cars the stars of the show were some make-believe characters called Muppets, still seven years away from Sesame Street fame. The auto show special two years earlier had been critiqued for being too dry; this one went to the other extreme. They were “clever little puppets,” noted one reviewer, “but there must be another way to add entertainment . . . with more auto-related features.

Think of this: If it weren’t for greed, intolerance, hate, passion and murder, you would have no works of art, no great buildings, no medical science, no Mozart, no van Gogh, no Muppets and no Louis Armstrong. The civilization that devises the infrastructure to allow these wonderful things to be created is essentially a product of war—death and suffering—and commerce—deceit and inequality. Even your liberty to discuss the shortcomings of your own species has its foundations in blood and hardship.

Wall Street: I’d start carrying guns if I were you.      Your annual reports are worse fiction than the screenplay for Dude, Where’s My Car?, which you further inflate by downsizing and laying off the very people whose life savings you’re pillaging. How long do you think you can do that to people? There are consequences. Maybe not today. Or tomorrow. But inevitably. Just ask the Romanovs. They had a nice little setup, too, until that knock at the door.      Second, Congress: We’re on to your act.      In the middle of the meltdown, CSPAN showed you pacing the Capitol floor yapping about “under God” staying in the Pledge of Allegiance and attacking the producers of Sesame Street for introducing an HIV-positive Muppet. Then you passed some mealy-mouthed reforms and crowded to get inside the crop marks at the photo op like a frat-house phone-booth stunt.      News flash: We out here in the Heartland care infinitely more about God-and-Country issues because we have internal moral-guidance systems that make you guys look like a squadron of gooney birds landing facedown on an icecap and tumbling ass over kettle. But unlike you, we have to earn a living and can’t just chuck our job responsibilities to march around the office ranting all day that the less-righteous offend us. Jeez, you’re like autistic schoolchildren who keep getting up from your desks and wandering to the window to see if there’s a new demagoguery jungle gym out on the playground. So sit back down, face forward and pay attention!      In summary, what’s the answer?      The reforms laws were so toothless they were like me saying that I passed some laws, and the president and vice president have forgotten more about insider trading than Martha Stewart will ever know.      Yet the powers that be say they’re doing everything they can. But they’re conveniently forgetting a little constitutional sitcom from the nineties that showed us what the government can really do when it wants to go Starr Chamber. That’s with two rs.      Does it make any sense to pursue Wall Street miscreants any less vigorously than Ken Starr sniffed down Clinton’s sex life? And remember, a sitting president actually got impeached over that—something incredibly icky but in the end free of charge to taxpayers, except for the $40 million the independent posse spent dragging citizens into motel rooms and staring at jism through magnifying glasses. But where’s that kind of government excess now? Where’s a coffee-cranked little prosecutor when you really need him?      I say, bring back the independent counsel. And when we finally nail you stock-market cheats, it’s off to a real prison, not the rich guys’ jail. Then, in a few years, when the first of you start walking back out the gates with that new look in your eyes, the rest of the herd will get the message pretty fast.

BERNIE BRILLSTEIN: O’Donoghue had the best line about the Muppets. He used to say, “I won’t write for felt.

Randy rolled his eyes. “Oh sure. She said ‘bork dee jork de spork’ a few times. Of course it was difficult to get all of that, being as it was in an ancient Swedish chef language and all. It took me back to my Muppet watching days. Not to mention it was being shouted by one of those dementors from Harry Potter. The damned thing probably showed up here because it’s out of work, ever since that series ended.

I live kind of within myself as a person, so my outlet has always been the Muppets; therefore, I tend to do sort of wildly extroverted characters,” said Jim.

Disney walked away from the deal, but they started showcasing the Muppets in Disney World, anyway without paying any fees.

No, we’re the two old Muppets on the balcony, cracking lame jokes.

Freddie: Kermit – after Muppet character Kermit the Frog. During Fred’s ‘ballet’ period in 1977, he took to wearing white leotards on stage and when exposed under green lights, his lithe body in the skin-tight costume made him look like the Muppet character – especially when he sat on the steps of the stage set. ‘Halfway up the stair?’ (Nobody dared to call him Kermit personally, I hasten to add.)

Mayor Gusherowski approached Adam with a Guy Smiley smile—the perfect blend of game show host and Muppet.

Mayor Gusherowski approached Adam with a Guy Smiley smile—the perfect blend of game show host and Muppet. “Wonderful to meet you, Adam!” He gave Adam the perfunctory too-enthusiastic handshake, adding that little pull toward him that politicians believed made the recipient feel somehow inferior or obligated. “Can I call you Adam?” “Sure, Mr. Mayor.” “Oh,

When you married me, you married the muppets. For better or worse, Freckles.

butt-muppet

Having sung for a full six and a half minutes and sufficiently aroused the collective indignation of the karaoke waiting list that made up half the bar, Peter embraced Deven, who quipped something inaudible over the music. What I could hear was Peter's laugh, a high-pitched, honking sound that was like a cross between a Muppet and a five-year-old girl. And that was it—I was in love.

Her lover was, of all things, a Turkish physics professor at Mount Saint Mary College, a diminutive, balding man in his fifties who sounded and even looked sort of like the Count from Sesame Street. Even now, McDonald sometimes closed his eyes to see the Muppet laughing at him. “I slept with your wife one, two, three, four times. Ah-ha-hah!

okay. Give yourself a lot of space in which to explore writing. A cheap spiral notebook lets you feel that you can fill it quickly and afford another. Also, it is easy to carry. (I often buy notebook-size purses.) Garfield, the Muppets, Mickey Mouse, Star Wars. I use notebooks with funny covers. They come out fresh in September when school starts. They are a quarter more than the plain spirals, but I like them.

Travaux en vert («opérations en vert» ou «façons en vert»)–opposés aux «travaux d’hiver» – sont, disent les dictionnaires, «l'ensemble des opérations culturales (rognage, l’ébourgeonnage, éclaircissages, la vendange en vert, le pincement, l’écimage, le rognage, l'entre-cœur, l’effeuillage etc.) que les vignerons pratiquent sur la vigne au cours de la période végétative» et «ils ont le plus souvent pour but de favoriser le mûrissement des grappes». Travaux en vert c’est, donc, une métaphore qui renvoie à des choses très précises. Comme pour la vigne et pour le bon vin sont nécessaires toutes sortes de «travaux», parfois, quand la culture devient «sauvage» (par l'abandon aussi) des «opérations», des «travaux» de toutes sortes sont, de même nécessaires. C'est la conclusion du personnage du livre, prof à la Faculté de Lettres (comme moi), qui doit parler de la poésie devant un «public» qui a perdu complètement, par ignorance aussi, le goût de la poésie, la vraie. La prof essaie de faire ses «travaux» et son «plaidoyer pour la poésie» d’une façon «alternative», en mélangeant des citations des grands écrivains et des allusions à la culture underground ou à la culture pop, des personnages de bandes dessinées et de Muppet’s Show, des films, des groupes de musiques etc. etc. J'ai fait, en 324 pages, une sorte d'histoire de la poésie, avec la participation des poètes de partout, de tous les temps. J'ai convoqué aussi «les hypocrites lecteurs» (semblables et frères!). J'espère que les fragments du livre roumain traduit en français peuvent donner une idée du projet de ce... Bildungspoem. (p. 9-10)

Misha confirms what I fear most: no one knows how to use Excel,

In her purse, she always carried blotting papers, lipstick, and mascara, because she'd learned the hard way that by lunchtime women who didn't do repairs resembled Janice the Muppet after a light microwaving.

Love is an awful thing, isn’t it?” “Not for you, you fanged muppet. You’re blissfully happy with Delaney.

This book will allow you the space to think, you are not paying for paper and ink.

Sometimes things just work out, and more often when you think.

The Revolutions have progressed us, we need an Evolution to change us