Sugar Babe Quotes

What you want to do tonight? I read Daniel's text and respond. Sorry. Plans. WTF, puss flap!? No! Me. You. Plans. Can't. Pretty sure I have a date. Sky? Yep. Can I come? Nope. Can I be your date next Saturday, then? Sure, babe. Can't wait, sugar.

Babe," Ranger said. "You're looking a little strung out. Is there anything I should know?" I'm on a sugar withdrawal. I've given up desert and it's all I can think about." That had been true five minutes ago. Now that Ranger was standng in front of me I was thinking a cupcake wasn't what I actually needed. Maybe I can help you get your mind off doughnuts," Ranger said. My mouth dropped open, and I think some drool might have dribbled out.

Ye know as well as I that I lost whatever heart I once had long ago,” Mick replied without emotion, a simple statement of fact. “If the babe lives, or if she dies, it makes no difference to me. I’ll still eat sweetmeats on the morrow and taste the sugar on me tongue, still f*ck women and feel the pleasure in me bollocks. And, Charlie—mark me well, now—I’ll still kill ye and laugh in yer ugly face as I do it.

Strangers. It smelled like sugar and beer, which was alarming because I’d designed a lavender/old library scent with my aromist specifically for the event.

Babe let's go to town buy something sweet - pink grapefruit eat it with sugar

Not all the sugar frosting and colored sprinkles, chocolate pieces and coconut crumbles, can disguise a piece of garbage. It's still a load of garbage, babe.

But that's what Christmas is about, isn't it? The impossible becoming real. An infinite God becoming a fragile human babe. That perfect God making a path for us to come back to Him, and doing it in a way both spectacular and yet so mysterious, so hidden that people could and still do deny it.

Tatiasha, my wife, I got cookies from you and Janie, anxious medical advice from Gordon Pasha (tell him you gave me a gallon of silver nitrate), some sharp sticks from Harry (nearly cried). I’m saddling up, I’m good to go. From you I got a letter that I could tell you wrote very late at night. It was filled with the sorts of things a wife of twenty-seven years should not write to her far-away and desperate husband, though this husband was glad and grateful to read and re-read them. Tom Richter saw the care package you sent with the preacher cookies and said, “Wow, man. You must still be doing something right.” I leveled a long look at him and said, “It’s good to know nothing’s changed in the army in twenty years.” Imagine what he might have said had he been privy to the fervent sentiments in your letter. No, I have not eaten any poison berries, or poison mushrooms, or poison anything. The U.S. Army feeds its men. Have you seen a C-ration? Franks and beans, beefsteak, crackers, fruit, cheese, peanut butter, coffee, cocoa, sacks of sugar(!). It’s enough to make a Soviet blockade girl cry. We’re going out on a little scoping mission early tomorrow morning. I’ll call when I come back. I tried to call you today, but the phone lines were jammed. It’s unbelievable. No wonder Ant only called once a year. I would’ve liked to hear your voice though: you know, one word from you before battle, that sort of thing . . . Preacher cookies, by the way, BIG success among war-weary soldiers. Say hi to the kids. Stop teaching Janie back flip dives. Do you remember what you’re supposed to do now? Kiss the palm of your hand and press it against your heart.   Alexander   P.S. I’m getting off the boat at Coconut Grove. It’s six and you’re not on the dock. I finish up, and start walking home, thinking you’re tied up making dinner, and then I see you and Ant hurrying down the promenade. He is running and you’re running after him. You’re wearing a yellow dress. He jumps on me, and you stop shyly, and I say to you, come on, tadpole, show me what you got, and you laugh and run and jump into my arms. Such a good memory. I love you, babe.

We went to Pinkberry and my mouth was watering, Brandon thought my sugar cravings over the last few months were adorable, but I swear I turned into a crazed animal whenever I knew I was about to have some. Only problem was, if there were choices, I could never decide, which is why he usually went alone and picked for me. I stood there looking at everything and Brandon remained patient, he knew we’d be here a while. He wrapped his arms around my belly and planted his chin on top of my head, every now and then bringing his face down to kiss behind my ear and whisper how much he loved me and Liam. Then he’d start a trail of kisses down my neck and I’d have to start the decision making process all over. “You’re not helping babe.” I reached my hand up to run my fingers over the back of his buzzed head, I knew that would keep him from distracting me for a while.

if you don’t have a roll of cookie dough in your fridge, it wouldn’t be unwelcome if one of the commandos swung by King Soopers and got some. Chocolate chip or sugar cookie.” “I don’t have cookie dough in my fridge.” I knew this. The morning before I’d checked in his fridge and he had yogurt, cottage cheese, fresh fruit, slices of smoked salmon and veggies. It was a wasteland in there. He didn’t even have condiments. He studied my face while I thought this, then remarked, “Babe, it isn’t a punishable offense not to have cookie dough.” “Maybe not but you don’t have condiments.” “Ketchup and cottage cheese don’t go real good together.

Do you ever stop to consider how seldom your significant other uses your name in daily life? For us it was always some term of endearment, like “honey” or “babe”, or even the more extravagant “sugar badger” or “manly mouse”. The only time that changed was during arguments when the strangeness of being called by your name left no doubt that you were in trouble.

Avoid common genetically engineered foods like corn, soy, canola, sugar beets, cottonseed, papaya, zucchini, and squash. Only buy these if they are organic. Wash your produce well, too.

Sure is. I know how much you love those sugary energy drinks, but honestly, babe… This is so much better for you. It’s a quality roast from Ecuador, you don’t even need sugar. Might as well save the calories, right?” I raised my brows. “Why would I be worried about calories?” “Your jeans always get a little tight after some time at the ranch,” he chuckled.