Shocker Quotes

Well, here’s the shocker,” said Kirby. “Majors Miller and McKinsey believe our former Captain Paul Remmich is acting as a spy for the Iraqi government.

Have you ever met a man who looked so damn delicious that you wanted to sop him up with a hot buttermilk biscuit and inhale him in one gulp?” “Why, yes, I have,” Doris said. That was a shocker. “Really? What happened?” “I married him.

You’re giving me a lot of responsibility here, baby doll. I don’t like responsibility.” Shocker. “You can handle this, baby doll. I have faith in you.

He cut himself off and looked away, dragging a hand through his hair. "I just met her," he muttered to himself. "I'll no' say that." "Cut the crap," Megan said. "Zachary Moore, this is Aura Salvatore, and yes, she's into science even though she's pretty. Shocker. Get over it." She turned to me. "Show him how you can walk and chew gum at the same time.

V's smile didn't last long. "Don't get your romantic side fired up about me and Jane, buddy. She's human." Butch's jaw dropped and he pulled a bobble. "No, really? That's such a shocker! And here I thought she was a sheep." V shot Butch a fuck-ya stare.

A, A, A, A, A, A,” Nathan said, reading off my results. “No shocker there,” Alex said. “You never know,” I told him. “Freshman year I got an A minus in my history class because my teacher said my final paper was too long. That was horrible.” Alex rolled his eyes. “Heaven forbid,” he said, but it didn’t bother me.

Lightning shot out of my fingers and sank into the armored skin. Madero screamed. Welcome to the shockers, bitch.

The door opened a crack, and then Lassiter, in his game gear, stepped inside the room. As he held something out, Mary couldn’t see what it was— Wait a minute, was that a Snickers bar? “What are you doing?” she blurted as he cautiously approached. The beast snapped to attention, its jowls curling up in a snarl at the angel. But Lassiter was undaunted—so not a shocker. “Here,” he said. “Have a Snickers. You’re not yourself when you’re hangry.” There was a heartbeat of a pause. And then she couldn’t help it. She had to start laughing. “Really. Really?

The door opened a crack, and then Lassiter, in his game gear, stepped inside the room. As he held something out, Mary couldn’t see what it was— Wait a minute, was that a Snickers bar? “What are you doing?” she blurted as he cautiously approached. The beast snapped to attention, its jowls curling up in a snarl at the angel. But Lassiter was undaunted—so not a shocker. “Here,” he said. “Have a Snickers. You’re not yourself when you’re hangry.

Where's my sister?" "She's setting up the island we found tonight." Galen shakes his head. "You slithering eel. You might have told me what you were up to." Toraf laughs. "Oh sure. 'Hey, Galen, I need to borrow Emma for a few minutes so I can kiss her, okay?' Didn't see that going over very well." "You think your surprise attack went over better?" Toraf shrugs. "I'm satisfied." "I could have killed you today." "Yeah." "Don't ever do that again." "Wasn't planning on it. Thought it was real sweet of you to defend your sister's honor. Very brotherly." Toraf snickers. "Shut up." "I'm just saying." Galen runs a hand through his hair. "I only saw Emma. I forgot all about Rayna." "I know, idiot. That's why I let you hit me fifty-eight times. That's what I would do if someone kissed Rayna." "Fifty-nine times." "Don't get carried away, minnow. By the way, was Emma boiling mad or just a little heated? Should I keep my distance for a while?" Galen snorts. "She laughed so hard I thought she'd pass out. I'm the one in trouble." "Shocker. What'd you do?" "The usual." Hiding his feelings. Blurting out the wrong thing. Acting like a territorial bull shark. Toraf shakes his head. "She won't put up with that forever. She already thinks you only want to change her so she can become another of your royal subjects." "She said that?" Galen scowls. "I don't know what's worse. Letting her think that, or telling her the truth about why I'm helping her to change." "In my opinion, there's nothing to tell her unless she can actually change. And so far, she can't." "You don't think she's one of us?" Toraf shrugs. "Her skin wrinkles. It's kind of gross. Maybe she's some sort of superhuman. You know, like Batman." Galen laughs. "How do you know about Batman?" "I saw him on that black square in your living room. He can do all sorts of things other humans can't do. Maybe Emma is like him." "Batman isn't real. He's just a human acting like that so other humans will watch him." "Looked real to me." "They're good at making it look real. Some humans spend their whole lives making something that isn't real look like something that is." "Humans are creepier than I thought. Why pretend to be something you're not?" Galen nods. To take over a kingdom, maybe? "Actually, that reminds me. Grom needs you." Toraf groans. "Can it wait? Rayna's getting all cozy on our island right about now." "Seriously. I don't want to know." Toraf grins. "Right. Sorry. But you can see my point, right? I mean, if Emma were waiting for you-" "Emma wouldn't be waiting for me. I wouldn't have left." "Rayna made me. You've never hit me that hard before. She wants us to get along. Plus, there's something I need to tell you, but I didn't exactly get a change to." "What?" "Yesterday when we were practicing in front of your house, I sensed someone. Someone I don't know. I made Emma get out of the water while I went to investigate." "And she listened to you?" Toraf nods. "Turns out, you're the only one she disobeys.

There is a fine line between social networking and wasting your f**king life.

And the shocker? I actually like what I found buried down there. I like myself. I like my tastes, style, preferences, opinions, movements, and peculiarities. I like the books I read, the clothes I wear, the music I listen to, my dry wit, my big hearty man-laugh, my maniacal drive, my deformed big toe, my big messy heart, my big messy life. All of it. And because I’m the person I spend the most time with, this means I get to spend a lot of time with a person I dig. As you can imagine, this is fun.

When I got to school the next morning I had stepped only one foot in the quad when he spotted me and nearly tackled me to the ground. “Jamie!” he hollered, rushing across the lawn without caring the least bit about the scene he was creating. The next thing I knew, my feet were off the ground and I was squished so tightly in Ryan’s arms that I could barely breathe. “Okay, Ryan?” I coughed in a hushed tone. “This is exactly the kind of thing that can get you killed.” “I don’t care, I’m not letting go. Don’t ever disappear like that again!” he scolded, but his voice was more relieved than angry. “It’s been days! You had your mother worried sick!” “My mother?” I questioned sarcastically. Ryan laughed as he finally set me back on my feet. “Okay, fine, me too.” He still wouldn’t let go of me, though. He was gripping my arms while he looked at me with those eyes, and that smile… You know, being all Ryan-ish. And then, when I got lost in the moment, he totally took advantage of how whipped I was and he kissed me. The jerk. He just pulled my face to his right then and there, in the middle of a crowded quad full of students, where I could have accidentally unleashed an electrical storm at any moment. And okay, maybe I liked it, and maybe I even needed it, but still! You can’t just go kissing Jamie Baker whenever you want, even if you are Ryan Miller! “Ryan!” I yelled as soon as I was able to pull away from him—which admittedly took a minute. “I’m sorry.” Ryan laughed with this big dopey grin on his face and then kissed me some more. I had to push him away from me. “Don’t be sorry, just stop!” I realized I was screaming at him when I felt a hundred different pairs of eyes on me. I tried to ignore the audience that Ryan seemed oblivious to and dropped the audio a few decibels. “I wasn’t kidding when I said this has to stop. Look, I will be your friend. I want to be your friend. But that’s it. We can’t be anything more. It’ll never work.” Ryan watched me for a minute and then whispered, “Don’t do that.” I was shocked to hear the sudden emotion in his voice. “Don’t give up.” It was hopeless. “Fine!” I snapped. “I’ll be your stupid girlfriend!” Big shocker, me giving Ryan his way, I know. But let’s face it—it’s just what I do best. I had to at least act a little tough, though. “But!” I said in the harshest voice I was capable of. “You can’t ever touch me unless I say. No more tackling me, and especially no more surprise kissing.” He actually laughed at my request. “No promises.” Stupid, cocky boyfriend. “You’re crazy. You know that, right?” Ryan got this big cheesy smile on his face and said, “Crazy about you.” “Ugh,” I groaned. “Would you be serious for a minute? Why do you insist on putting your life in danger?” “Because I like you.” His stupid grin was infectious. I wanted to be angry, but how could I with him looking at me like that? “I’m not worth it, you know,” I said stubbornly. “I have issues. I’m unstable.” “You’re cute when you’re unstable,” Ryan said, “and I like your issues.” The stupid boy was straight-up giddy now. But he was so cute that I cracked a smile despite myself. “You really are crazy,” I muttered.

I was always cutting my Barbie and Pollyanna dolls' hair. I lined them all up and put a cloth around their necks, like they were at the beauty parlor. Barbie was a real heartbreaker, but then all of a sudden, Barbie was freakin' bald. That was a shocker.

I see things in windows and I say to myself that I want them. I want them because I want to belong. I want to be liked by more people, I want to be held in higher regard than others. I want to feel valued, so I say to myself to watch certain shows. I watch certain shows on the television so I can participate in dialogues and conversations and debates with people who want the same things I want. I want to dress a certain way so certain groups of people are forced to be attracted to me. I want to do my hair a certain way with certain styling products and particular combs and methods so that I can fit in with the In-Crowd. I want to spend hours upon hours at the gym, stuffing my body with what scientists are calling 'superfoods', so that I can be loved and envied by everyone around me. I want to become an icon on someone's mantle. I want to work meaningless jobs so that I can fill my wallet and parentally-advised bank accounts with monetary potential. I want to believe what's on the news so that I can feel normal along with the rest of forever. I want to listen to the Top Ten on Q102, and roll my windows down so others can hear it and see that I am listening to it, and enjoying it. I want to go to church every Sunday, and pray every other day. I want to believe that what I do is for the promise of a peaceful afterlife. I want rewards for my 'good' deeds. I want acknowledgment and praise. And I want people to know that I put out that fire. I want people to know that I support the war effort. I want people to know that I volunteer to save lives. I want to be seen and heard and pointed at with love. I want to read my name in the history books during a future full of clones exactly like me. The mirror, I've noticed, is almost always positioned above the sink. Though the sink offers more depth than a mirror, and mirror is only able to reflect, the sink is held in lower regard. Lower still is the toilet, and thought it offers even more depth than the sink, we piss and shit in it. I want these kind of architectural details to be paralleled in my every day life. I want to care more about my reflection, and less about my cleanliness. I want to be seen as someone who lives externally, and never internally, unless I am able to lock the door behind me. I want these things, because if I didn't, I would be dead in the mirrors of those around me. I would be nothing. I would be an example. Sunken, and easily washed away.

Lady, all I know about you is that you're tough as hell. Guys like me, we got a list of people like you. Like a rating system. You got your Daredevils, your Iron Fists--those guys, you fight. Maybe you get lucky, or maybe you're actually good enough to beat 'em. Now, any Hulk--lady, dude, red, green, purple--you see a Hulk. you run. As you saw. Thors, too.

And here is a shocker: The world has made spectacular progress in every single measure of human well-being. Here is a second shocker: Almost no one knows about it.

Nullman had won a Nobel Prize that year. Nick had won Best Tentacle Death in the Nautical category of Port Talbot’s rescheduled ShockerCon for his killer coral novel, The Coral What Killed.

He’d been unique, a member of a vanishing race, a vanishing tribe, an individual in an ancient society. Now he was one of thousands with mixed blood, not unique anymore, not even Lakota. He was part Moroccan, part Berber if he believed the senator. The illegitimate son of a senator, how was that for a shocker? And if it hadn’t been for a renegade gambling syndicate trying to get a casino on Sioux land that they could siphon off profits from, he’d have gone the rest of his life without ever knowing the truth. His mother had kept her secret for thirty-six years. His whole life.

A fascinating and somewhat disturbing study out of the University of Virginia showed that, given the choice, many preferred undergoing electric shock to sitting alone with their thoughts. Study participants were exposed to a mild shock, which they all reported they didn’t like and would pay money not to undergo again. But when left alone in an empty room with a “shocker” button for up to fifteen minutes, removed from all distractions, unable to check their phones or listen to music, two-thirds of men and one-fourth of women in the study chose to voluntarily shock themselves rather than sit in silence. Dr. Tim Wilson, who helped conduct the study, said, “I think this could be why, for many of us, external activities are so appealing, even at the level of the ubiquitous cell phone that so many of us keep consulting. . . . The mind is so prone to want to engage with the world, it will take any opportunity to do so.

disagreement. Usually the point of reading was to escape everyday reality. But once some cross that line, they get so hell bent over something they don’t find logical. Well, let me tell you something—life isn’t always logical. Shocker, I know.

One popular connection was enough for him,ya think?" I asked the bronze Mary above me. "If you Phillites are scary now, I can only imagine what you were like a hundred years ago." No shocker, she didn't respond. The guard, however, gave me the hairy eyeball.

My wrists and ankles were bleeding. My knees too—I must’ve scraped myself trying to draw the circle. So far today I’d seen a woman almost die, I’d shot a person, I’d killed another person with my shockers, I’d been strung up on wires and almost crushed by a car, and now I was bleeding all over the place. If I could, I would punch today right in the face.

Yes! Yes! Yes!” Marty kept leaping into the air. I thought I might have to tie a rope around his waist and hold onto it to keep him from floating away!

sit back and let Sierra handle it. “I think there must be something wrong with my hearing,” she says, sitting up straighter. “Because I could not have heard that misogynistic comment coming from Leo, of all people. Shocker right there.” Leo grins, and I know he said that on purpose to get a rise out of her. It’s his way of trying to distract her and lighten the mood.

Look,let me give you the CliffNotes: You're a bitch in this life and Daniel doesn't care.Shocker! He courts you for a few weeks,there's some exchanging of flowers.A big kiss and then kaboom. Okay? Not much more to see." "You don't understand." "What? I don't understand that Victorians are as stuffy as an attic and as boring as watching wallpaper peel? Come on,if you're going to zigzag through your past,make it count. Let's hit some highlights. Luce didn't budge. "Is there a way to make you disappear?" "Do I have to stuff you in this Announcer like a cat in a suitcase? Let's move!" "I need to see that he loves me, not just some idea of me because of some curse that he's bound to.I need to feel like there's something stronger keeping us together. Something real." Bill took a seat next to Luce on the grass. Then he seemed to think better of it and actually crawled onto her lap. At first,she wanted to swat him, and the flies buzzing around his head,but when he looked up at her,his eyes appeared sincere. "Honey,Daniel loving the real you is the last thing you should be worried about. You're freaking soul mates. You two coined the phrase. You don't have to stick around here to see that.It's in every life.

You mean you to tell me you don't eat fish?" Rayna barks. "I told you, Galen! How many times did I tell you?" "Rayna, be quiet," he says without looking at her. "We're wasting our time here!" She slams her fork down. "Rayna, I said-" "Oh, I heard what you said. And it's about time you listened to someone else for a change." Now would be a good time to blackout. Or ten minutes ago, before they unveiled the seafood surprise. But I don't even feel remotely dizzy. Or tired. In fact, Rayna's ranting seems to be igniting a weird charge in the room, sparking some sort of hidden energy all around us. So when Galen stands so fast his chair falls over, I'm not surprised. I stand, too. "Leave, Rayna. Right now," he grinds out. When Rayna stands, Toraf does, too. He keeps his expression neutral. I get the feeling he's used to outbursts like these. "You're just using her as a distraction from your real responsibilities, Galen," she spits. "And now you've risked us all. For her." “You were aware of the risks before you came, Rayna. If you feel exposed, leave,” Galen says coolly. Responsibilities? Exposed? I’m waiting for someone to admit they’re part of some violet-eye cult, and I didn’t make initiation. “I guess I don’t understand,” I say. “Oh, well, that’s a real shocker, isn’t it?” Rayna says.

Shockers take six months of training and still occasionally kill their users. Why did you implant them in the first place?” “Because you kidnapped me.” “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” “Mr. Rogan.” My voice frosted over. “What I put into my body is my business.” Okay, that didn’t sound right. I gave up and marched out the doors into the sunlight. That was so dumb. Sure, try your magic sex touch on me, what could happen? My whole body was still keyed up, wrapped up in want and anticipation. I had completely embarrassed myself. If I could fall through the floor, I would. “Nevada,” he said behind me. His voice rolled over me, tinted with command and enticing, promising things I really wanted. You’re a professional. Act like one. I gathered all of my will and made myself sound calm. “Yes?” He caught up with me. “We need to talk about this.” “There is nothing to discuss,” I told him. “My body had an involuntary response to your magic.” I nodded at the poster for Crash and Burn II on the wall of the mall, with Leif Magnusson flexing with two guns while wrapped in flames. “If Leif showed up in the middle of this parking lot, my body would have an involuntary response to his presence as well. It doesn’t mean I would act on it.” Mad Rogan gave Leif a dismissive glance and turned back to me. “They say admitting that you have a problem is the first step toward recovery.” He was changing his tactics. Not going to work. “You know what my problem is? My problem is a homicidal pyrokinetic Prime whom I have to bring back to his narcissistic family.” We crossed the road to the long parking lot. Grassy dividers punctuated by small trees sectioned the lot into lanes, and Mad Rogan had parked toward the end of the lane, by the exit ramp. “One school of thought says the best way to handle an issue like this is exposure therapy,” Mad Rogan said. “For example, if you’re terrified of snakes, repeated handling of them will cure it.” Aha. “I’m not handling your snake.” He grinned. “Baby, you couldn’t handle my snake.” It finally sank in. Mad Rogan, the Huracan, had just made a pass at me. After he casually almost strangled a woman in public. I texted to Bern, “Need pickup at Galeria IV.” Getting into Rogan’s car was out of the question.

Then I read the sermon. The shocker hit when I realized that Edwards’s audience was the church! He spoke not from the street corner but from the pulpit. Not to the passersby outside but to the parishioners inside. The sinners in the hands of an angry God were the people who bore his name! This was judgment for God’s people, directed at a church filled with idolatry, apathy, and sin. I began to realize that God’s coming judgment is not so much an evangelistic tool used to frighten outsiders into the kingdom as it is a housecleaning tool used to weed out hypocrisy and call insiders back to the faith they proclaim. It starts at home. I love Edwards’s sermon now. There are a few parts I disagree with, that conflict with aspects of the biblical story we’ve observed in this book (though brilliant as all get out, he couldn’t be right all the time).4 But in the bigger picture, Edwards’s sermon is a reminder to me that I cannot slide by on the coattails of calling myself a Christian.

What’s the basic way to catch a ghost in Luigi’s mansion: Dark Moon? a) Throw an Ectonet over it. b) Blast it with the ShadeShocker. c)     Stun it with a Strobulb, and then vacuum it into your Poltergust 5000. d)    Trap and store it in a Specter Snare. Name something that you can’t do with Poltergust 5000 a) Roll up a throw rug b)    Run very fast as you are propelled by a jet of water c) Vacuum up spiders and their webs d) Make a ceiling fan spin. These tough-looking spirits just want to give you a hand for your hard work. What do you call them? a) Sly Fives b) Clap Claps c) Slammers d) Slap Happies. Things aren’t always as they seem inside a hunting building. What tool helps you see objects hidden by Spirit Balls? a) Specter-o-scope b) Dark-light device c) De-illusionator d) Goggles of clarity. If you see a piece of furniture or a flowerpot shaking, what should you do? a) Press the X button b) Exercise caution c) Get ready to stun a ghost with your Strobulb d) All of the above. BONUS QUESTION: What does E stand for in Professor E. Gadd? a) Elvis b) Elvin c) Elroy d) Esteban. RESULTS: 0 out of 6 – Very, very very bad! You didn’t only ruin your mission of catching ghosts, but more of them came and they ate your I-scream. 1 out of 6 – Not bad! You did well enough that all of the ghosts moved out of your house. They ate your I-scream before they left. 2 out of 6 – Not too shabby! There ghosts are outside the house, and yup they ate your I-scream. 3 out of 6 – Not bad, but not good either. Let’s say you did manage to get ghosts outside the house, but your I-scream is eaten, and new ghosts won’t see you as a big threat. Get ready. 4 out of 6 – Nice! You must spend a lot of time in Gloomy Manor’s haunted library. It looks like you manage to read besides hunting ghosts. Also, you got an over-Boo notice. 5 out of 6 – Well done! You chase away ghosts so fast that you spend more time reading and improving your knowledge about these little pests. Are you an encyclopedia about ghosts or a human? 6 out of 6 – Excellent! You are the expert in catching and destroying ghosts. You could definitely help Luigi in tackling the

Libraries were like a second home to me, not really a shocker given my lack of much of a social life, and I’d noticed Augsburg’s library was fantastic, falling in love with it on my campus tour last summer. Big, new and full of books I had never read before, it was tantalizing. City libraries are dicey unless you get into a bigger city, but college libraries are great. They’re full of so much research material, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on all of it. I’d actually been looking forward to searching for more information on my condition now that I had access to a new wealth of information. It had occurred to me sometime in the night that this boy had given me a direction as to where to start. Grabbing a jacket in case the weather

While this initial finding isn’t a shocker, the news wasn’t that the activity occurred, but rather exactly where the activity occurred. It took place in the nucleus accumbens, a deep and primal area linked to intense physical reward

MY NEW LIFE began on a Saturday . It was a life that chose me, which shouldn't have been surprising. A real shocker would be gliding through my senior year without one more thing to label my life dysfunctional. Most seventeen -year-olds would have called the events a head-on collision. For me, I was merely sideswiped in the journey to find my missing brother.

Jeff Bezos owns The Washington Post (conveniently, the biggest media company in D.C.), and he’s building Amazon’s second headquarters (HQ2) across the river from—shocker!—the capital city.

But now he knew what would happen. And it was a big shocker. If one consumed two potions within an hour, the second could cause horrific consequences, such as being slightly less thirsty or having one less potion to drink.

For the Indian Markets Volume Gainers in NSE India website Volume Shockers in Chartink website

Is this why you led me out here to this place?' 'What is this, Princess?' 'To be... inappropriate.' 'And why would I do that?' he asked, his voice dropping low as his hand touched my arm. 'Why? I think it's pretty obvious, Hawke. I'm sitting in your lap. I doubt that's how you normally hold innocent conversations with people.' 'Very rarely is anything I do innocent, Princess.' 'Shocker,' I muttered.

I head straight for the protein bars, wondering how in the hell my life has come to this. It’s not like it’s a big shocker that I’m stuck living at home with my absent father and ass of an older brother. When I graduated high school, no one was pointing at me and thinking, now there’s a girl that’s going places. Nope. If they were pointing at me, it was to say things like, Isn’t that the Rousseau girl? Didn’t her brother get arrested last week for beating the hell out of some guy? They weren’t wrong. The Rousseau name is synonymous with fighting, poverty, and a healthy dose of low-class.

Tristan. Vanderbilt. I mean, she may as well date Dracula. Not a modern-day urban fantasy Dracula, but like the original guy who gets his head cut off and his mouth stuffed with garlic.” “That was Lucy, not Dracula,” Church corrects because—shocker—he’s the only one who’s actually read the original 1897 novel.

Now here’s a shocker for the men. Maybe. Did you guys know that most women express love through words and non-sexual affection? Caressing, kissing and cuddling?” He nodded smiling. “And women, did you know what non-sexual caressing, kissing, and cuddling makes a man want?” They were all quiet now. They were connecting it. “Sex. That’s right. Vicious cycle isn’t it?

The veins of Kansans may bleed prisms of Jayhawk blue and red, Wildcat purple, or Shocker black and gold, but our identity as a buffalo state unites all Kansans. By what right though? Our iconic state mammal is extirpated in the wild, and for more than 125 years now we have chosen not to share our wild lands with the buffalo.

You got the birthday blues. Lord knows, child, I’ve had ‘em, too. They hit you any time you turn an age that ends in nine. Except for nineteen, of course, which doesn’t count.” Maya frowned and lifted her head. “Drink,” her mother said. So she drank. And Vidalia went on. “People tend to think these crisis points hit us at the round numbers. Thirty, forty, fifty. But they don’t. It’s the dang nines. By the time you turn thirty, you’ll have had a year to get used to the idea of turning thirty. But twenty-nine—well now, that’s a shocker. All of a sudden you’re looking at thirty seriously for the first time.” Draining

Do you know what you need?” Malcolm was saying now. To get laid, I thought. “To get laid,” Malcolm said. Shocker.

Look, let me give you the CliffsNotes: You're a bitch in this life and Daniel doesn't care. Shocker! He courts you for a few weeks, there's some exchanging of flowers. A big kiss and then kaboom. Okay? Not much more to see. You don't understand. What? I don't understand that Victorians are as stuffy as an attic and as boring as watching wallpaper peel? Come on, if you're going to zigzag through your past, make it count. Let's hit some highlights. Luce didn't budge. Is there a way to make you disappear? Do I have to stuff you in this Announcer like a cat in a suitcase? Let's move!

I need some time for the rest. I just don’t take something like marriage lightly. If I do it, I’ll mean it, and I won’t change my mind. But I think you’d do it right now for all the wrong reasons.” “Does this have anything to do with the guy you didn’t let stay last night?” he asked. “My boyfriend?” she asked, smiling. She knew it was naughty to taunt him like that; she wasn’t thinking of T.J. as a boyfriend at the moment. “It would be nice of me to tell him if things change in my personal life. But until I have matters settled…” “No, Franci, tell him matters are settled. You won’t be dating him!” “And the woman who keeps calling you?” “What woman?” he asked. “Your phone keeps picking up text messages and voice mails. That has to be a woman.” He took a deep breath. This didn’t seem like a good time to lie, just as he was trying to close a deal. “I dated this girl a few times back at Beale and I told her I wasn’t getting into a steady thing. When I went on leave, I told her we had to cool it because it wasn’t working for me, but she’s deaf. I thought when I left town for a couple of months she’d let it go, but she’s hounding me. I’m going to call her, Franci, and tell her I’m off the market. That I’m getting married. She won’t call anymore. Now, come on.” “Poor thing,” Franci said. “She might be as sick in love with you as I was.” “As you were?” he asked, a little frightened of the answer. “And I said I’m not marrying you.” “Okay, let me get this right—I suggested marriage and you said no?” “How about that? What a shocker, huh?” “Well, what the hell am I supposed to do? I thought that’s what I should do!” “Okay, you still don’t get it. We don’t want to because you’re doing what you should. Listen carefully, Sean. I want you to be absolutely sure you want to commit to a life with me and Rosie, because you don’t have to marry me to have time with your daughter. She’s your daughter—I won’t get in the way of that. Though I have to admit, the way you suggested marriage really just knocked me off my feet.” He would never admit it to anyone, but her refusal gave him an instant feeling of relief. He wasn’t ready to take it all on. But it would sure make things tidier if they could just do it the way it probably should be done. He slid close to her and, before she could protest, pulled her right up against him. “You wanna get knocked off your feet, sweetheart? Because we both know we do that to each other.” He put a big hand around the back of her neck and ran his thumb from her earlobe to the hollow of her throat. Then he kissed that spot. “I want you with me, Franci. Tonight, and from now on.” “Sean,” she said gravely, “when you rejected me four years ago, there were times I wondered if I’d lost my mind and my heart. The things we said to each other—I don’t want to risk a marriage like that. After we split and I moved to Santa Rosa, sometimes I grieved so badly I worried that I was hurting the baby with endless crying, sleepless nights, loss of appetite. I just can’t face something like that again.” He ran a knuckle across her soft cheek. “Baby, I didn’t reject you. I wanted to be with you—I just had a hang-up with marriage.” “Well, now the shoe’s on the other foot. Suck it up.” Life

What the fuck is that?” At the sound of V’s voice, John turned with the rest of them . . . and when he saw what was up at the head of the grand staircase, he blinked once. Twice. Twelve times. Lassiter was standing at the top of the carpeted steps, his blond-and-black hair styled in a pompadour, a heavy Bible under his armpit, piercings catching the light . . . But none of that was the real shocker. The fallen angel was dressed in a sparkling white Elvis costume. Complete with bell-bottoms, balloon sleeves, and lapels big enough to tent up the backyard. Oh, and rainbow wings that revealed themselves as he held his arms out, preacher style. “Time to get the party started,” he said as he jogged down, sequins winking and flashing. “And where the hell’s my pulpit?” V coughed out the smoke he’d just inhaled. “She’s having you do the service?” The angel popped his already mile-high collar. “She said she wanted the holiest thing in the house to do it.” “She got holey, all right,” somebody muttered. “Is that Butch’s Bible?” V asked. The angel flashed the goods. “Yup. And his BoC, he called it? I also got a sermon I did myself.” “Saints preserve us,” came from the opposite side of the crowd. “Wait, wait, wait.” V waved his hand-rolled around. “I’m the son of a deity and she picked you?” “You can call me Pastor—and before Mr. Sox Fan gets his panties in a wad, I want everyone to know I’m legit. I went online, took a minister’s course in under an hour, and I’m ordained, baby.” Rhage raised his hand. “Pastor Ass-hat, I have a question.” “Yes, my son, you are going to hell.” Lassiter made the sign of the cross and then looked around. “So where’s our bride? The groom? I’m ready to marry somebody.” “I didn’t bring enough tobacco for this,” V bitched. Rhage sighed. “There’s Goose in the bar, my brother—oh, wait. We don’t have a bar anymore.” “I think I’ll just run an IV of morphine.” “Can I put it in?” Lassiter asked. “That’s what she said,” somebody shot back

For the first time in my life since I knew Marshae, she didn’t say shit, and that’s a shocker for her because her shit talking ass always had to have the last fuckin word. I

He grinned. “Mort’s head is gonna explode.” “To put it mildly,” she said. “Any other shockers?” “Yeah. Did you know you can buy M&M’s in any color you want?” She cracked a smile. “So I’ve heard.” “And I ate a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup that was bigger than my head.” “Congratulations.

Oh yes. That Petraeus story is also about — shocker! — a man with a mistress. Hmm. You can bet that there will be no media barrage that the Petraeus story is “only about sex” and that it’s time to “move on” or even “what difference, at this point, does it make?” Will David Petraeus emerge from this as a political rock star? Are you kidding? Which is another way of saying what’s really at play here in the different treatment of David Petraeus and Hillary Clinton — not to mention Bill Clinton — is one giant double-standard. With one set of rules for the Clintons — and different rules for everybody else. Again.

a … literary shocker, designed to upend the credulous matrons —Wolcott Gibbs

I’m sorry I turned this evening into such a disaster.” “Hey, stop trying to usurp all the credit. We all did our part to make this evening as uncomfortable as possible.” He smiled, but it was another sad effort. I pulled his head down and kissed his cheek to show him that all—all—was forgiven. “I mean it, Taro. None of us can be proud of our behavior tonight. Don’t be thinking you deserve special punishment. And don’t be too wild tonight. All right? Take care.” He looked down at me curiously, but I could see he was relaxing a little. The lines of tension about his form were easing slightly. I wasn’t sure why, but it was good to see. “Lee, what do you think I do when I’m not with you?” And he grinned, something closer to his usual self. I could have hugged him. “I don’t think about it,” I said. Major lie. “I don’t participate in orgies, you know.” “Of course not.” Actually, that was a shocker. I would have bet money that he did. Though, really, I didn’t tend to think about it. Much. But what was the point of being the Stallion if you didn’t indulge in indiscriminate sex? “I don’t smoke drugs.” “I never thought for a moment that you did.” And that was the honest truth. “I don’t get smashed and hijack public carriages and get . . . smashed.” Hell, I never even considered that possibility. People did that? That explained some of the driving I had seen. Was that legal? He chuckled, the evil bastard. “Take a look in the mirror, gorgeous.” “Huh?” “Have a good evening, darling. Pass my apologies on to your mother.” With a wink and a graceful turn he grabbed up his cloak and was out the door. I pulled in a long breath and blew it out again. What a hellish evening. Should have known that would happen when it turned out I needed so much work to be considered acceptable. Anything you couldn’t do as yourself was likely to blow up in your face.

trust doesn’t come in shades of gray. It’s absolute and filled with power. When trust is broken, it’s often not the act of betrayal that’s most surprising. The real shocker is who in your innermost circle betrayed you—a best friend? A boyfriend? A sister? A parent? Betrayal can appear small, like a little white lie, the whisper of a long-held secret in the hall at school, or the posting of a private confession on Facebook. Or it can be colossal and far darker, like a pretty young lacrosse player savagely murdered by her ex-boyfriend, or the mother with haunted eyes who drowned her babies in the bathroom tub. The truth is that big or small, betrayal cuts quite like no other evil. And when it comes for you, it finds its way quietly in the night like the slip of a knife at the base of the spine. As life fades to black, you ask over and over: What did I do to deserve this?

The Old World was the domain of the Old School of wizardry—the “maintain secrecy and don’t attract attention” way of thinking. I guess they have a point, given the Inquisition and all. I don’t belong to the Old School. I have an ad in the Yellow Pages, under “Wizards.” Big shocker—I’m the only one there. I have to pay the bills somehow, don’t I?

I know plenty about you. Learning more every single moment, and no, everything in your life isn’t good. That’s not a shocker because life isn’t always good. It’s messy and it’s dark and sometimes you think it will absolutely wreck you.” His hand lifted. Curled under her chin. His touch was so warm. “But nothing has wrecked you. You walked through hell and barely left ash in your wake. You’re smart and you’re strong, and you were trying to get justice for your father. You were willing to take any risk. Willing to cross any line for someone that you loved.

Then, when I was eighteen, the admissions officers at Columbia, Wesleyan, and Brown decided I should go to the University of Chicago. I love my alma mater, and it has changed a lot for the better since I was there, but back then it wasn’t exactly the sort of get-in-touch-with-your-feelings place that would help thaw my emotional ice age. My favorite saying about Chicago is this one: It’s a Baptist school where atheist professors teach Jewish students Saint Thomas Aquinas. The students there still wear T-shirts that read, “Sure it works in practice, but does it work in theory?” And so into this heady world I traipsed and…shocker, I fit right in.

The gender thing wasn't what surprised me. A huge percentage of the homeless teens I'd met had been assigned one gender at birth but identified as another, or they felt like the whole boy/girl binary didn't apply to them. They ended up on the streets because - shocker - their families didn't accept them. Nothing says "tough love" like kicking your non-heteronormative kid to the curb so they can experience abuse, drugs, high suicide rates, and constant physical danger. Thanks, Mom and Dad!

That afternoon, Manchin and Schumer published a joint statement revealing their secret agreement to the world. And the world couldn’t quite believe it. Politico deemed it a “shocker.” And when that outlet relayed the news to Tiernan Sittenfeld, the League of Conservation Voters’ top lobbyist, she could only manage to blurt, “Holy shit.” In Washington, these sorts of surprises were usually spoiled by the city’s high concentration of reporters and its cultural proclivity for leaking. After

That afternoon, Manchin and Schumer published a joint statement revealing their secret agreement to the world. And the world couldn’t quite believe it. Politico deemed it a “shocker.” And when that outlet relayed the news to Tiernan Sittenfeld, the League of Conservation Voters’ top lobbyist, she could only manage to blurt, “Holy shit.” In Washington, these sorts of surprises were usually spoiled by the city’s high concentration of reporters and its cultural proclivity for leaking. After so many months of false dawns, it felt only prudent to view this as another moment of bloated expectations. But this was unlike every other plot point. This wasn’t hearsay evidence of Manchin’s endorsement of a theoretical deal, but a definitive statement issued in his name.

Ten.' His brows knitted. 'What?' 'Ten times, you've called me Poppy.' One side of his lips tipped up. The faintest trace of the dimple appeared. 'I like calling you that, but I like calling you Princess more.' 'Shocker.

I... you're perfect.' His expression tightened. 'No, I'm not. You deserve someone who is, but I'm too much of a bastard to allow that.' I shook my head, unsure how he couldn't see that he was deserving. 'I disagree with everything you just said.' 'Shocker,' he said, and then he curled his arm around me.

I'm Van Dine.

Actually, a vast number of men, even when they are in the springtime of their lives, “kill” time by reading “shockers”, solving crossword puzzles, studying the worthless tips of racetrack touts, by loafing on the street corner or in pubs and by scores of other time-wasting devices. In most cases, time is all they have. It is their only capital. And their steady desire is to destroy it. Speaking of crossword puzzles, Mr. Esme Wingfield-Stratford truly says: “Energy must find an outlet somewhere, even in the most atrophied mind, and that it may drain itself easily and agreeably into vacancy, puzzles and competitions are devised, culminating in the invention of the crossword, perhaps the most scientific of all time-killing devices, with its capacity for holding the attention just sufficiently to keep the brain employed in the most useless of all possible activities for hours on end.

If Pablo die's, do not be sad, he will come back for revenge.

If Pablo gets caught or killed, do not be sad, he will come back for revange.

The world has made spectacular progress in every single measure of human well-being. Here is a second shocker: Almost no one knows about it.

Perhaps the classic Mysterious Traveler episode was Behind the Locked Door, much requested and rerun over the years. This story could not have been done in any other medium, as most of it takes place inside a cave, in total darkness. A pair of archaeologists trapped by a landslide find inside the cave the remnants of an old wagon train, perhaps a hundred years old. When they are attacked by strange beings, they must conclude that the descendants of those pioneers still live in this sightless world, feeding on the fish that swim through the underground stream. The ending, of course, was a shocker—most Mysterious Traveler endings twisted fate and tried hard for the big surprise. The final scream blended into the train’s whistle, and there was the Traveler again, clacking along on his ever-rolling journey. Oh, you have to get off here! … I’m sorry! … I’m sure we’ll meet again … I take this same train every week at this same time …

When you fall in every way- to me, it’s not about love… I have a hard time believing in something that I don’t find too real for me or can trust… like papa said- I should. Times have changed. To me, it’s trying to keep it, after the fact. That's the color of Jenny, her skin is never that natural looking. What was the look on her face all about? Maddie begins giggling hysterically until she doubles over and has to cover her mouth with both hands. I don’t know what she could find funny. Then I see Ray and Justen are love drinks doing it on the pole table, with my little sis just eyeing it all up. She knows- Ray is my guy, and Justen is her new bestie. ‘God save me if you can hear me!’ I am ready to rip someone’s head off and the skin that goes with it. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she- my sis says. ‘I can’t believe it.’ She looks back at me- like I know your heart has broken. Justen looked at her and said- ‘OH MY GOD’ get her out of here. She was her to dance not see this. I grab her by the back of her short dress and take her into the next room and said. ‘It’s okay, everything is going to be fine no damn it go home!’ She said- ‘Know it’s not… Kar-ley I did a No-no!’ (She still baby talks.) You’re never going to forgive me. I said- ‘I know you had sex, for the first time tonight.’ She said- ‘Yes, but…’ I said- ‘But… what… go on.’ She starts subbing. She said- ‘It was Ray that did it to me, up in the master bedroom. He said- ‘That you would think it would be okay because I knew him.’ ‘So, I believed him.’ She added- During sex I bleed a lot out of there (and the point) and it hurt so much Karly, I cried the whole time. But I felt close to him… How was it I ask? And then she dropped the shocker of a lifetime. She said- ‘I think I am in love with your boyfriend, yet Justen just ripped him away. She asks me the most complex question ever coming from the mind of a ten-year-old. ‘So, which of us girls do you think he loves the most? Is it me, you or her?’ I said- ‘I don’t know… she looks puzzled by that… just like I could not believe that I didn’t say- me.’ Kellie said- I feel a little sore but other than that I am a hundred percent perfectly fine emotion Madilyn and physically, up till this point at least.’ I whispered in her ear- ‘Aww sis, boys will say anything to get you to do what they want. She has her head on my chest. No, I am not mad at you. I’ll take care of this, ‘I am not mad’- I said once more. On the other hand, inside I was pissed, she had the night that I have been planning for a long time.

You look like hell,” she observed. “I can’t call the coast guard because you ripped out my VHF. I’m going to have to get you to shore as fast as possible.” He held up his hand. “No. I can’t be seen.” He forced a trembling note into his voice. “I think someone’s trying to kill me.” “That’s a shocker,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Add Coach knowing what Gossip Girl was to the second shocker of the day.

There it will be revealed that the forward problem and the backward problem, as different as they seem, are twins separated at birth, a shocker called the fundamental theorem of calculus.

When I wake, Xaden is gone, but that’s not exactly a surprise. Him staying the night to begin with? Now that was the shocker. Finding a jar on my nightstand with a handful of spring violets? My heart swells. I’m in so much fucking trouble.

As he spoke, Hammond steered him toward the door. “But, John,” Wu said. “Remember back in ’87, when we started to build the containment devices? We didn’t have any full-grown adults yet, so we had to predict what we’d need. We ordered big taser shockers, cars with cattle prods mounted on them, guns that blow out electric nets. All built specially to our specifications. We’ve got a whole array of devices now—and they’re all too slow. We’ve got to make some adjustments. You know that Muldoon wants military equipment: LAW missiles and laser-guided devices?” “Let’s leave Muldoon out of this,” Hammond said. “I’m not worried. It’s just a zoo, Henry.” The phone rang, and Hammond went to answer it. Wu tried to think of another way to press his case. But the fact was that, after five long years, Jurassic Park was nearing completion, and John Hammond just wasn’t listening to him any more.

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