Rock Oo Quotes

Hector? You call him Hector?” “Well, I can hardly call out, ‘Agent Chavez, oo Agent Chavez,’ When he makes me climax, now can I?

I, Lucifer, Fallen Angel, Prince Of Darkness, Bringer of Light, Ruler of Hell, Lord of the Flies, Father of Lies, Apostate Supreme, Tempter of Mankind, Old Serpent, Prince of This World, Seducer, Accuser, Tormentor, Blasphemer, and without a doubt Best Fuck in the Seen and Unseen Universe (ask Eve, that minx) have decided - oo la la! - to tell all. All? Some. I'm toying with that for a title: Some. Got a post-millennial modestry to it, don't you think? Some. My side of the story. The funk. The jive. The boogie. The rock and roll. (I invented rock and roll. You wouldn't believe the things I've invented. Anal sex, obviously. Smoking. Astrology. Money...Let's save time: Everything in the world that distracts you from thinking about God. Which...pretty much...is everything in the world, isn't it? Gosh.)

What do you think he saw?" Damn--I regret the awed way I phrased that and the hushed voice I used. As if I think acid is a "religious" experience, a visionary thing. "Himself," Josh says. "You always see your true self on acid. You just usually see more than you want to see. So it all seems disorted." See what I mean? He's not your normal stoner. The guy should become a poet, a psychologist, a scientist. We pull up near Greg's house and stare at it like it's a damn fortress. "You don't think he needs to go to the hospital?" I ask. "Nope," Josh says. "For a while, I thought maybe, yeah. But he's good now, he's off it, he's not hallucinating anymore." "You're sure?" "Yeah." "'Cuz you can die on LSD-" "That's such anti-drug propaganda bullshit, Dan," Josh interrupts. "Nobody's ever died from an LSD overdose. Ever. As long as you keep people from doing stupid things while they're tripping, it's all good man, man. Why do you think I babysat him?" He reaches into the backseat and punches my shoulder. "LSD isn't your dad's smack. So stop worrying." I scrunch down in the seat. How'd he know about that? "Right. What's the plan?" "I'd ask him if ther was a key hidden under a rock," Josh says, "but he's not gonna be much help. Watch." He pokes Greg in the leg, prods him on the shoulder, grabs his cheeks and smushes them together, the way parents do to a baby, and says, " Ootchi googi Greggy, did ums have a good trippy? Did ums find out itty-bitty singies about oos-self zat oos didn't likeums?" Yup... Greg was in his own little world...

When he does Cronauer’s anarchic broadcasts—screeching “Goo-oo-oood mornin’, Viet-nam!” and launches into bursts of giddy, wildfire free association, punctuated with Motown and ’60s rock—he’s transformed.… Williams at the mike is like a man possessed, purified, liberated.

You're a large worm. You'll satisfy the babies as a tender and tasty morsel. Toodle-oo. Ivy decided she didn't like birds, not in the least bit. And now she had an even larger problem. She was thousands of feet in the air on a sheer cliff face waiting to be served to a bunch of hungry babies as dinner. She was scared. There was no denying that. Ivy slowly walked around the inside of the nest, peering over the side. It was a very long way down.  Sparky? Sparky? I'm in big trouble. A large gray bird with a cruel beak and beady eyes as big as Ivy's fist flew from a tall point where it seemed to be keeping watch, and landed on the rocks above the nest where Ivy waited. Stop that noise or I'll throw you out of the nest. Ivy swallowed. The big birds heard her calling for Sparky. She said, I'm sorry. I won't say anything more. See that you don't. Ivy watched the birds come and go, and tried to figure out whether there was a guard on her. The birds swapped places when sitting the nests. Sometimes it seemed like the skies were empty while at other times they were squabbling or cawing amongst themselves. They didn't caw like a crow, though. Their voices were deeper and more menacing. Ivy couldn't believe she didn't notice before. But then, how could she have guessed when they came to save her, that she was actually being saved for dessert.

Well, this is a fine mess you’ve gotten us into, Good Ava said into my ear. Oo, we’re in Luke’s bed, Bad Ava cooed into my other one. Shit.