Ps I Hate You Book Quotes

I’m going to have to start booking you guys a month in advance.” “Or you could invite Ms. Rothschild over,” Kitty suggests. “Her weekends are pretty lonely too.” He gives her a funny look. “I’m sure she has plenty she’d rather do than watch The Sound of Music with her neighbor.” Brightly I say, “Don’t forget the tacos al pastor! Those are a draw, too. And you, of course. You’re a draw.” “You’re definitely a draw,” Kitty pipes up. “Guys,” Daddy begins. “Wait,” I say. “Let me just say one thing. You should be going on some dates, Daddy.” “I go on dates!” “You’ve gone on, like, two dates ever,” I say, and he falls silent. “Why not ask Ms. Rothschild out? She’s cute, she has a good job, Kitty loves her. And she lives really close by.” “See, that’s exactly why I shouldn’t ask her out,” Daddy says. “You should never date a neighbor or a coworker, because then you’ll have to keep seeing them if things don’t work out.” Kitty asks, “You mean like that quote ‘Don’t shit where you eat’?” When Daddy frowns, Kitty quickly corrects herself. “I mean ‘Don’t poop where you eat.’ That’s what you mean, right, Daddy?” “Yes, I suppose that’s what I mean, but Kitty, I don’t like you using cuss words.” Contritely she says, “I’m sorry. But I still think you should give Ms. Rothschild a chance. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out.” “Well, I’d hate to see you get your hopes up,” Daddy says. “That’s life,” Kitty says. “Things don’t always work out. Look at Lara Jean and Peter.” I give her a dirty look. “Gee, thanks a lot.” “I’m just trying to make a point,” she says. Kitty goes over to Daddy and puts her arms around his waist. This kid is really pulling out all the stops. “Just think about it, Daddy. Tacos. Nuns. Nazis. And Ms. Rothschild.

Dear Children, I am your dad. The father of all five of you pale creatures. Given how attractive and fertile your mother is, there may be more of you by the time you read this book. If you are reading this, I am probably dead. I would assume this because I can honestly foresee no other situation where you’d be interested in anything I’ve done. Right now, you are actually more interested in preventing me from doing things like working, sleeping, and smiling. I’m kidding, of course. Kind of. I love you with all of my heart, but you are probably the reason I’m dead. All right, you didn’t kill me. Your mother did. She kept getting pregnant! I don’t know how. Don’t think about it. It will give you the willies. At one point, I was afraid she got pregnant while she was pregnant. She was so fertile I didn’t even let her hold avocados. Anyway, this is a book all about what I observed being your dad when you were very young and I had some hair back in good old 2013. So why a book? Well, since you’ve come into my life, you’ve been a constant source of entertainment while simultaneously driving me insane. I felt I had to write down my observations about you in a book. And also for money, so you could eat and continue to break things. By the way, I’m sorry I yelled so much and did that loud clapping thing with my hands. I hated when my dad would do the loud clapping thing with his hands, so every time I do the loud clapping thing, it pains me in many ways. Most of the pain is because that loud clapping thing actually hurts my hands. You may be wondering how I wrote this book. From a very early age, you all instinctively knew I wasn’t that bright of a guy. Probably from all the times you had to correct me when I couldn’t read all the words in The Cat in the Hat. Hell, I find writing e-mails a chore. (Thank you, spell-check!) I wrote this book with the help of many people, but mostly your mother. Your mother is not only the only woman I’ve ever loved, but also the funniest person I know. When your mom was not in labor yelling at me, she made me laugh so hard. Love, Dad P.S. How did you get that hula hoop into that restaurant Easter 2011? Who’s Who in the Cast Jim Gaffigan (Dad).

IMPORTANT NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR Are you aware that if you borrow a book from Kindle Unlimited and read in Page Flip mode the author doesn’t get paid? Amazon has recently confirmed this to authors, and there is no indication as to whether they intend to fix this or not. I hate mentioning this, but as my page reads continue to decline (despite the fact I have way more books enrolled in Kindle Unlimited), I may need to revisit my participation in the program going forward. I would never ask any reader to stop reading in Page Flip mode, as reading is highly personal, but I do want to ensure every reader is fully aware of all the facts, so they can make their own informed decision. Thanks for your attention. P.S. I did include this note at the front of the book, but Amazon continually keeps setting my books to start on Chapter One despite the fact I usually have a note at the front of each book to explain something important, and set the book to open on the title page. So, I’m copying this note here, not to be an annoying so and so but to ensure my readers have read this important notification. Thank you

For Hailey. You hate it when men write through the eyes of a woman so much and , yet,  you inspired me to write this book which - I am sure - you will never read. And that is fine. That being said, I am surprised how much time you spend moaning about male authors mis-representing people, and groups, when you could spend more time enjoying the things which do not upset your delicate sensitivities. Art can be enjoyed by anyone. Art can be created by anyone. Only Nazis dictate otherwise. You trout. PS: Yes, I spelled your name wrong on purpose.

But I know myself. Know that I can’t stand bracelets or even hairbands around my wrists. As much as I’d love and cherish the device, I’d eventually take the watch off. Then I would put it down somewhere, and it would disappear one day, mixed in with my clutter. Another piece of Josh would vanish. I grit my teeth and close my eyes. Dom would never be so careless. He probably has a custom-made watch stand by his bedside and cleaning supplies to make sure the glass face doesn’t smudge. “Keep it,” I grind out. “He left it to you.” “Maddie—” “Leave me alone. I’m puzzling.” I put my headphones back on, restart my book, and command my eyes to only look at the pieces in front of me. Still, I can sense when Dom stands and moves away. He stays in the main area for a stretch, moving around the kitchen. Probably correcting the microwave and oven clocks. Eventually, he disappears down the short hallway to the bedrooms.

Growing up, things like love and trust and healthy, functional relationships were foreign concepts to me. My parents never once told me they loved me. I didn’t have friends because, let’s face it, no kids wanted to hang out with the girl with greasy hair and smelly clothes that fit funny. We weren’t close with extended family. So I mostly kept to myself. Being alone was all I knew. I was all I had, really. That and books. Losing myself for hours in worlds that only existed in the confines of a paper jacket was my only escape from a life I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. Shunning contemporary stories in favor of classics, I always felt like I was the only one, but I wasn’t interested in reading books that felt like a present-day reality when I wanted nothing to do with my own. Anyway, my point is, I never knew what true happiness and fulfillment felt like until you. We had a connection that I know in my heart I’m never going to have with anyone else. You made me laugh. You made me smile. You made me cry (much as I hate to admit). You showed me I was still capable of giving love despite the fact that I’d never learned what it meant to accept it.Our time together may have been brief and tragically fleeting, but it left a lasting mark on my heart. I’m the woman I am today because of you, Kerouac. And for that reason alone, I’ll always hold you dear, and I’ll forever regret that it never worked out for us. Thank you for everything. I wish you all good things. Love, Absinthe PS – I think you should know that I never stopped loving you, not once. For whatever it’s worth, I just wanted you to know that you were loved