We Ew Quotes

The force is strong with this one.” Sloane laughed. “All right there, Yoda.” “Please,” Dex scoffed. “We both know I’d be Han. You can be Luke.” “Okay, Han.” “Ash would be Vader. Ew, Ash would be your dad.

She didn't say a work, and I gave up trying, because you couldn't hear either one of us over the shattering noise of hearts breaking and the looming shadow of the last word, the one we refused to say.

Cam used to hook up with her.” “Ew.” I wrinkled up my nose. “And so did you?” “Not at the same time.” “God, I hope not.” When he chuckled again , I nudged him with my knee. “You do realize that means you’ve slept with Cam, right?” “What? Fuck no.” In the dim light, he shrank back. “I told you it wasn’t—” “He’s been in there. So have you. So by association, you two have had sex.” “That is disgusting.” I grinned. “What’s disgusting is that you’ve both been up in there and—” “Can we not talk about this?

Ew, guys, stop it. Not on the couch.” Quinn was right next to us, batting me off of Jaxon. “Oh, like we haven’t gotten plenty of fluids on this couch already, sweetheart,” Cole laughed from behind her. “All of you are disgusting, shut up, push play, and keep your fluids to yourselves,” Jace complained.

Snaketail what art thou doing?" called Voldemort. Then . . . he started coming! We could hear his high heels clacking to us. So we got on our broomsticks and we flew to Hogwarts. We went to my room. Vampire went away. There I started crying.

Hi, I'm Driggs." "Damn, boy. You're even cuter up close." Cordy looked him up and down hungrily. "Got any dead brothers in here?" Lex made a face. "Cordy, ew." "Doesn't hurt to ask!" She peered at Driggs. "Now tell me, what are your intentions with my sister?" Driggs became flustered. "Um, I don't know. To love her...and, uh...honor...protect..." Lex went red. "Driggs, shut up." "Awkward." Cordy beamed. "Love it." "We have to go," Driggs said in an unnecessarily loud voice.

Hey!" Lauren Moffat's voice, sounding noticeably irritated, floated up to us. "What-ew! What's in my hair?" We all three ducked beneath our table so Lauren couldn't see us if she realized what was happening and looked up. I could see her between the slits of the fencing around the balcony, but I knew she couldn't see me. She was shaking out her hair. Becca, crouching across from me, had to put her hands across her mouth to keep from giggling. Jason looked like he was about to pee in his pants, he was trying so hard not to laugh. What's the matter, babe?" Mark came out from beneath the balcony, putting his wallet into his back pocket. There's something--sand or something-in my hair," Lauren said, still fluffing out her hair-which you could tell she didn't want to do, since she flat-ironed it so straight. Mark leaned in closer to examine Lauren's hair. "Looks okay to me," he said. Which just made us laugh harder, until tears were streaming out of the corners of our eyes.

Ew. You guys are gross," Arrin says. "Can we go already? Before she accidentally eats him?

Ren frowned as he surveyed the madness they were knee-deep in. “Why are you under such heavy fire?” Nick gave him a droll stare. “Oh, I don’t know. But we’re really enjoying it. Fear has such a wonderfully romantic scent to it that they ought to turn it into cologne and deodorant. Eau de Ew. Let’s all just take a minute, and bask in it.

Boorab's spear was a window pole. He stood on the second step, barring their way. "Who goes there? State y'business, wot?" Brother Hoben tapped an impatient paw on the bottom step. "Come out of the way, please. We'ew going to the walltop." The hare twitched his whiskers officiously. "No Dibbuns allowed up here. You're not Dibbuns, are you?" Cregga took hold of the window pole he was clasping and lifted both Boorab and the pole, with one paw, down onto the grass. "Do we look like Dibbuns? Don't try my patience, sah!" "Just doin' one's duty," he muttered up the steps after them, somewhat creastfallen. "I was only asking a civil question, wot. Humph, some creautres!

Outside I hopped into our vehicle, the taint of vampiric magic clinging to me like greasy smoke. “I feel soiled.” “Like walking into a room after a day of work, falling into bed, and realizing the sheets are covered in cold K-Y jelly,” Raphael said. I just stared at him. “With a funky smell,” he added. My Order conditioning failed me. “Ew.” Raphael grinned. “I‟m not even going to ask if that‟s happened to you.” I started the vehicle. “Has that happened to you?” “Yes.” Ew. “Where?” “In the bouda house. I was really tired and you‟ve seen that place: everything smells like sex . . .” “I don‟t want to know.” I peeled out of the parking lot. "So where are we going?” “To Spider Lynn‟s house. We‟re going to dig through her trash, and if that doesn‟t work, we‟ll do some breaking and entering.” Raphael frowned. “Do you know where she lives?” “Yes. I memorized the addresses of all the Masters of the Dead in the city. I have a lot of time on my hands.” He squinted at me, looking remarkably like a gentleman pirate from my favorite romance novels. “What else do you store in your head?” “This and that. I remember the first thing you ever said to me. You know, when you carried me from the cart into the tub so your mother could fix me.” “I imagine it was something very romantic,” he said. “Something along the lines of „I‟ve got you‟ or „I won‟t let you die.‟ “I was bleeding in the bathtub, trying to realign my bones, and my hyena glands voided from the pain. You said, „Don‟t worry, we have an excellent filtration system.‟” The look on his face was priceless. “That can‟t be the first thing.” “It was.” We drove in silence. “About the K-Y,” Raphael said. “I don‟t want to know!‟ “Once I washed it out of my hair—” “Raphael, why are you doing this?” “I want to make you go "Ew‟ again.” “Why in the world would you want to do that?” “It‟s an irrepressible male impulse. It just has to be done. As I was saying, once I washed it out—” “Raphael!” “No, wait, you‟ll like the next part.

When it comes to application of eternal truths we may, of course, apply them, if they are in harmony with what is addressed specially to the church of God, and agreeing with the truth addressed directly to it in the Church Epistles. Then we may apply it, so far, but no further.

So I pulled a gun on him and demanded his wallet.” The soda in my mouth becomes the soda in my nose. “You had a gun?” I cough and sputter into my napkin. Mom’s eyes go round and she pressed her finger to her lips, mouthing, “Shhh!” “Where did you get a gun?” I hiss. “Oliver lent it to me. He was always looking out for me. Told me to shoot first and run. He said the asking-questions-later part was for the police.” She grins at my expression. “Does that earn me cool points?” I swirl a fry in the mound of ketchup on my plate. “You want cool points for pulling a gun on my father?” I say it with all the appropriate disdain and condescension it deserves, but deep down, we both know she gets mega cool points for it. “Psh.” She waves her hand. “I didn’t even know whether or not it would fire. And anyway, he didn’t hand me his wallet. He propositioned me instead.” “Okay. Ew.” “Not like that, you brat.

That waitress was flirting with me," Dad announced once we were out of the restaurant. He said it in his "whispering voice," which meant it was still loud enough for the waitress, all of her coworkers, and the shoppers at every other store in the mall to overhear. "Ew," I said. "She was not." Dad chuckled with delight over how hot and eligible he imagined himself to be. "She kept coming over to 'try to collect my plate'..." "Because that is her job," I reminded him. "And the way she looked at your mother? Pure jealousy!" Dad slipped his arm around Mom's waist. "Poor thing. I left her a big tip.

Dex narrowed his eyes. “The force is strong with this one.” Sloane laughed. “All right there, Yoda.” “Please,” Dex scoffed. “We both know I’d be Han. You can be Luke.” “Okay, Han.” “Ash would be Vader. Ew, Ash would be your dad.” Dex chortled at his own joke then sucked in another sharp breath. “Ow.

You’re sure you want to do this,” Galen says, eyeing me like I’ve grown a tiara of snakes on my head. “Absolutely.” I unstrap the four-hundred-dollar silver heels and spike them into the sand. When he starts unraveling his tie, I throw out my hand. “No! Leave it. Leave everything on.” Galen frowns. “Rachel would kill us both. In our sleep. She would torture us first.” “This is our prom night. Rachel would want us to enjoy ourselves.” I pull the thousand-or-so bobby pins from my hair and toss them in the sand. Really, both of us are right. She would want us to be happy. But she would also want us to stay in our designer clothes. Leaning over, I shake my head like a wet dog, dispelling the magic of hairspray. Tossing my hair back, I look at Galen. His crooked smile almost melts me where I stand. I’m just glad to see a smile on his face at all. The last six months have been rough. “Your mother will want pictures,” he tells me. “And what will she do with pictures? There aren’t exactly picture frames in the Royal Caverns.” Mom’s decision to mate with Grom and live as his queen didn’t surprise me. After all, I am eighteen years old, an adult, and can take care of myself. Besides, she’s just a swim away. “She keeps picture frames at her house though. She could still enjoy them while she and Grom come to shore to-“ “Okay, ew. Don’t say it. That’s where I draw the line.” Galen laughs and takes off his shoes. I forget all about Mom and Grom. Galen, barefoot in the sand, wearing an Armani tux. What more could a girl ask for? “Don’t look at me like that, angelfish,” he says, his voice husky. “Disappointing your grandfather is the last thing I want to do.” My stomach cartwheels. Swallowing doesn’t help. “I can’t admire you, even from afar?” I can’t quite squeeze enough innocence in there to make it believable, to make it sound like I wasn’t thinking the same thing he was. Clearing his throat, he nods. “Let’s get on with this.” He closes the distance between us, making foot-size potholes with his stride. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me to the water. At the edge of the wet sand, just out of reach of the most ambitious wave, we stop. “You’re sure?” he says again. “More than sure,” I tell him, giddiness swimming through my veins like a sneaking eel. Images of the conference center downtown spring up in my mind. Red and white balloons, streamers, a loud, cheesy DJ yelling over the starting chorus of the next song. Kids grinding against one another on the dance floor to lure the chaperones’ attention away from a punch bowl just waiting to be spiked. Dresses spilling over with skin, matching corsages, awkward gaits due to six-inch heels. The prom Chloe and I dreamed of. But the memories I wanted to make at that prom died with Chloe. There could never be any joy in that prom without her. I couldn’t walk through those doors and not feel that something was missing. A big something. No, this is where I belong now. No balloons, no loud music, no loaded punch bowl. Just the quiet and the beach and Galen. This is my new prom. And for some reason, I think Chloe would approve.

For a month we had been, I suppose, the thickest thieves in all London, and yet our intimacy was curiously incomplete.

The two-man crew of the patrol boat does not speak English. Rachel exploits this as best she can, while still dumping life jackets in the water. “What? I don’t understand what you’re saying? Do you speak English?” They confirm in their native tongue that they obviously do not. Rachel must be putting on a theatrical display, because the small boat rocks while she talks. “I don’t need these life jackets anymore,” she says, in her thickest Italian accent. “The colors are all wrong for me. I mean, look at this orange. Ew, right?” Galen rolls his eyes. I try not to giggle. “And this green? Hideous!” she continues. The men get more irate when she doesn’t stop littering their domain. “Hey, what the…Don’t touch me! I have a foot injury, you jerk!” Galen and I slink below the surface. “We knew that might happen,” he says.

And I like the light-up.” “The what?” “The light-up,” he’d say. “You know, that look people get when they finally realize you’re for real. It’s like electricity. It makes me tingle all over. Like a blanket full of static.” Ew. “Really? I’ve never heard that.” “Yeah, and I like it when people realize we’re out here.” I leaned in close once and asked him, “Do you want your mom to realize you’re out here? Do you want her to know?” “Nah. It took her too long to get over me.” All in all, he was a good kid.

Silveny's pregnant,' Sophie told her friends when she joined them for breakfast. Fitz dropped his fork. 'Are you sure?' 'Oh yeah,' Sophie mumbled, sinking into the chair next to him. 'She showed me...' 'GAH!' everyone said. Keefe pushed his plate away. 'I'm done with food forever.' 'Me too,' Dex agreed. 'Me three,' Biana said. 'Seriously, that is one batch of memories you do not have to show me,' Fitz told Sophie. 'I don't care if it's part of our Cognate training.' 'But it's still huge,' Biana added. 'Do you know how far along she is?' 'I'm guessing it's new, since the last few times I transmitted to her she didn't mention anything about--' 'STOP!' Keefe held up his hands. 'Ground rules for this conversation: All talk of alicorn baby-making is off the table--got it? Otherwise I'll have to rip my ears off. And for the record, I do not want to be there when Baby Glitterbutt arrives.' 'Me either,' Fitz said. 'My dad made me go to the Hekses' unicorn preserve for a delivery one time.' He shuddered. 'Who knew they came out so slimy?' 'Ew, dude, I did not need to know that. Can we talk about something else? Anything else?' 'Does anyone know how long alicorns stay pregnant?' Sophie asked. Biana shook her head. 'We've never had a baby alicorn before. But I'm pretty sure unicorns are pregnant for eleven months. So maybe it's the same?' 'Do you think Silveny knows?' Fitz asked. 'If her instincts are telling her she's pregnant, maybe they'll also tell her how it's going to work.' 'I guess I can ask. It was hard to get information out of her. All she wanted to tell me about was--' 'STOP!' Keefe said. 'I wasn't going to say that. She was telling me that she's really hungry. I'm not sure if it's a pregnancy craving or an excuse to get more treats, but she went on and on about how she needs more swizzlespice. We'll have to find a way to let Jurek know. 'Do you think he already knows?' Fitz asked. 'He's the equestrian caretaker at the Sanctuary. Maybe he...saw stuff.' 'WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THE GROUND RULES?' Keefe shouted, covering his ears. 'That's it, this conversation is officially over. Next person who says "alicorn" is getting pelted with fruit.' 'What's wrong with the alicorns?' Granite asked behind them. He'd arrived with Mr. Forkle, each of them carrying stacks of scrolls. 'Silveny's pregnant," Sophie said, and all the scrolls went THUNK! 'Are you certain?' Granite whispered, bending to gather the uncurling paper. Sophie nodded, and Mr. Forkle rushed to her side. 'Tell me everything.' 'And I'm out!' Keefe said, covering his ears and singing, 'LALALALALA! I CAN'T HEAR YOU!' as he raced up the stairs to the boys' tree house.

God has spoken, " at sundry times" as well as in. "diverse manners" And if we are to understand what He has spoken we must learn to distinguish, not only the various peoples whom He has spoken, but "the sundry times" at which He has spoken to them, and also the. "diverse manners".

Chust a little farther.   Keep your shoes on.” Peter whispered to me.   “Where does he get this stuff, anyway?   Isn’t it pants?   Aren’t we supposed to keep our pants on?” “Maybe for Bodo shoes are more important.   Maybe it’s a German thing.” “You know, Chermans can hear very good.   You are talking about me not very nice, I know it.” “We were just talking about your creative colloquialisms,” said Peter. I had no idea what that word meant, but it was fun to mess with Bodo, which is exactly what Peter was trying to do.   “Is dat like a fucktart?” “What?” asked Peter, half choking. “Fucktart.   Dat’s a new word I learned today.   Isn’t it a good one?” “I told you before, Bodo,” I said, “it’s not fucktart.   It’s fucktard.   And you were right before.   It’s not a nice word, so stop saying it.” “I didn’t say fucktart.   Dat was you.   You are the lady saying all the fucktart words today.   Or moron.   She likes dat one, too.   I think it means boy I luff.” “Wow.   You guys have one of the most messed up relationships I have ever seen,” said Peter, shaking his head.   “Seriously.   You fight to lighten the mood.   You call each other names …” “And we take showers togedder sometimes. Don’t forget dat.” “Shut up, Bodo!” “You do?   Ew.   That’s a public shower, you know.” “We do not take showers together.” “Yesss weeee doooo … ” “One time!   Okay?   One time.   And it’ll never happen again, I can promise you that.” “I can promise you different!” said Bodo in a singsong voice.

Strong as that repugnance became, I had an even stronger feeling that we were embarking on an important enterprise far too much upon the spur of the moment. The latter qualm I had the temerity to confess to Raffles; nor have I often loved him more than when he freely admitted it to be the most natural feeling in the world.

I am full of hope and light, power and fight. Viridians and alizarins and ultramarines swirl within me, and I weave my hands through his hair, feel those light lashes butterfly across my cheeks, taste cinnamon in his breath. “Ew are you two kissing? I’m right here,” Lucy says. August and I laugh and continue without pause. This kiss is not the passionate tryst that I always imagined a kiss would be. Our noses knock against each other, and I can’t quite figure out how to breathe. We break apart to laugh and then dive back in for more. I feel his smile against my own, and it sets my heart galloping. This is a kiss of light. Of hope. Of trust.

From the moment Leo comes on screen in that navy blue suit, I have chest palpitations. He’s like an angel, a beautiful, damaged angel. “What’s he so stressed out about?” Peter asks, reaching down and stealing a handful of Kitty’s popcorn. “Isn’t he a prince or something?” “He’s not a prince,” I say. “He’s just rich. And his family is very powerful in this town.” “He’s my dream guy,” Kitty says in a proprietary tone. “Well, he’s all grown up now,” I say, not taking my eyes off the screen. “He’s practically Daddy’s age.” Still… “Wait, I thought I was your dream guy,” Peter says. Not to me, to Kitty. He knows he’s not my dream guy. My dream guy is Gilbert Blythe from Anne of Green Gables. Handsome, loyal, smart in school. “Ew,” Kitty says. “You’re like my brother.” Peter looks genuinely wounded, so I pat him on the shoulder. “Don’t you think he’s a little scrawny?” Peter presses. I shush him. He crosses his arms. “I don’t get why you guys get to talk during movies and I get shushed. It’s pretty bullshit.” “It’s our house,” Kitty says. “Your sister shushes me at my house too!” We ignore him in unison.

He barked a laugh before nudging my leg with his wet nose. “Ew, Caeden! You got wolf snot all over my leg!” I left him behind the bush as I stared at the wet mess on my leg. His barking laughter quickly turned to human laughter. “Wolf snot?” he grinned. “Yes, and it’s all over my leg. It’s gross,” I complained. “Just because we can change into wolves doesn’t mean we need to act like them all the time.

But since we've all nearly died horribly several times in the past few days, I'll give you a free pass just for tonight. But you might, oh, I don't know, talk to him." "And say what?" I asked, scrambling out of bed. I pulled my favorite jeans out of my closet and rummaged for a T-shirt. "Sorry I nearly chewed through your jugular? They don't exactly make a card for that." "I could draw one for you." "Ew.

Next an Intimacy Consultant named Anita arrived. When Anita walked in she looked very studious. However, when she started to set up I would have never guessed that she did this for a living. First came all types of lingerie; see through, lacy, racy, edible, and even costumes. "Okay," Phoebe cleared her throat. "The idea here is to purchase things for our dear Lilli to wear or use on her honeymoon." Phoebe giggled and I scowled at her. "Don’t waste your money," I spat quickly, earning a laugh from Maggie and Viola. "Oh, honey, if Aidan is anything like his uncle then you will definitely want to get yourself some." "Mom," Maggie yelled and covered her ears. We all burst into laughter. "I’m just saying," Viola shrugged. "Your father is quite—" "Seriously? Seriously, mom? No…Ew, ew, ew!" Maggie screamed as she left the room. "God, please let my car get here soon!

It was Raffles I loved. It was not the dark life we led together, still less its base rewards; it was the man himself, his gayety, his humor, his dazzling audacity, his incomparable courage and resource. And a very horror of turning to him again in mere need of greed set the seal on my first angry resolution. But the anger was soon gone out of me, and when at length Raffles bridged the gap by coming to me, I rose to greet him almost with a shout.

Is this kind of . . . boring for you?” I asked him, feeling self-conscious. “What?” His hand that was resting on my hip tensed. He almost looked offended. I brushed imaginary lint from his shoulder. “I mean, you know, just kissing.” “This is better than anything I’ve ever done.” His voice was soft and sincere. He pushed the long bangs from my eyes. “Besides, have you ever snogged yourself, luv? It’s brilliant.” I laughed, hiding my face in his neck, and he chuckled, too. “Why?” he asked, playing with my hair. “Are you bored? Seeing as how you’ve kissed so many lads now and all?” I whipped my head up. “Ew, I don’t even want to talk about that. Those were gross and sloppy and—” “No details please.” “All right. How about this . . . I could kiss you all night, Kaidan Rowe.” “That’s my plan,” he said. We leaned in and stopped an inch away, interrupted by a persistent beeping coming from down the hall. My heart jumped before I placed the sound. “Brownies in bed?” I asked. He actually stiffened and looked pained. “What’s wrong? Do you have a no-food-in-bed policy?” “No. You’re just . . . turning me on with the whole Betty Crocker bit.” His eyes blurred as he seemed to be imagining something. I couldn’t picture anything sexy about me cooking. I hit him with a pillow and he held up his palms in surrender. “Maybe I’ll bring a glass of ice water in case I need to douse you,” I said, standing to go. “Hurry back,” he called. “I’ll just be here . . . dreaming of you in an apron and oven mitt.” I giggled at the absurdity of it. “You’re so easy,” I muttered. His laughter followed me down the hall, and I basked in it. 

I've never seen you flip the bird, RJ," Luke says. I can't stop the little smile that creeps up onto my lips.I really don't know what came over me.I've never been the vixen.I'm always one hundred percent good girl. "Yeah,it felt weird.And wrong. And awesome." "Well,you're lucky Mr. Bates didn't see you.Principles usually frown on that kind of sign language." He laughs. "Mr. Bates can suck it," I say defiantly. "Whoa!" Luke replies and we both laugh. "Have you been watching wrestling with Ben again? Admit it, Ricki Jo. You love oiled-up fat guys in unitards." "Ew!

I turned my back on Coyote without saying another word. He didn’t want to know what I was going to do with those granny panties. Surprisingly, Granuaile did. “Sensei, what were you going to do with those marshmallows and panties?” she whispered as we walked together. “I mean, I’m sure it had to be dire, but it just didn’t sound as threatening as the potential havoc a monkey could wreak on his sack.” “There was more to that recipe,” I admitted. “He cut me off before I could get to the Icy Hot and the gopher snake.” “Ew. What would you do with that?” “I will leave it to you as an exercise.” I

I know that gen Z has it tough—they’re losing their proms and graduations to the quarantine, they’re on deck to bear the full brunt of climate catastrophe, and they’re inheriting a carcass of a society that’s been fattened up and picked clean by the billionaire class, leaving them with virtually no shot at a life without crushing financial and existential anxiety, let alone any fantasy of retiring from their thankless toil or leaving anything of value to their own children. That’s bad. BUT, counterpoint! Millennials have to deal with a bunch of that same stuff, kind of, PLUS we had to be teenagers when American Pie came out!... American Pie absolutely captivated a generation because my generation is tacky as hell. “I have a hot girlfriend but she doesn’t want to have sex” was an entire genre of movies in the ’90s. In the ’90s, people loved it when things were “raunchy” (ew!). Every guy at my high school wanted to be Stifler! Can you imagine what that kind of an environment does to a person? To be of the demographic that has a Ron Burgundy quote for every occasion, without the understanding that Ron Burgundy is a satire? This is why we have Jenny McCarthy, I’m pretty sure, and, by extension, the great whooping cough revival of 2014. Thanks a lot, jocks!

It wasn’t cool of Dad to keep that secret. A secret with Valerie. Secret from me. But it’s not like I’m going to cry about it. When the crier finally catches her breath, she says, “How come Naomi gets a twin and I don’t?” Which makes no sense at all. “We’re not twins,” I say in maybe not my nicest voice. “We just have the same name!” I walk over to the couch where she’s sprawled. “What’s your name?” She sits up and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. Ew. “Brianna.” “Didn’t you ever meet another Brianna?” The other Naomi walks over to us, like maybe I should back off her sister or something even though I’m only trying to help. “Remember in your dance class?

Absence of that knowledge has rendered us a nation of wary label-readers, oddly uneasy in our obligate relationship with the things we eat ... Our words for unhealthy contamination--"soiled" or "dirty"--suggest that if we really knew the number-one ingredient of a garden, we'd all head straight into therapy. I used to take my children's friends out to the garden to warm them up to the idea of eating vegetables, but this strategy sometimes backfired: they'd back away slowly saying, "Oh man, those things touched dirt!" Adults do the same by pretending it all comes from the clean, well-lighted grocery store. We're like petulant teenagers rejecting our mother. We know we came out of her, but ee-ew.

Thank you." After rounding the couch, the young queen sat her hip on the cushy armrest. Her thoughts went back to the impromptu party in the commissary the night before. “I assume no Mishmorats or Viiduns are missing. Do you know if any real mischief took place last night after we left?” “None you need to worry about,” Ian told her. She could see he was hiding something by the twinkle in his eye. “What happened?” she asked, certain he had a story to tell. “Let’s just say there may be an influx of soldiers visiting your garden.” Her eyes scrunched, unable to guess what he was talking about. “Okay, and why?” Ian’s shoulders jostled with a snicker. “Efren showed off your garden to Kira last night. She discovered the warm pond. You know how your sisters have a fondness for swimming in their underclothes.” “Oh great,” Eena groaned. “But don’t worry about it too much, Queenie, there is a deterrent.” Ian let go a laugh he couldn’t quite stifle. “What deterrent?” she asked, grinning at his amusement. “Shanks likes to swim too.” “Oh?” “Actually, he prefers skinny dipping.” “Ew! Ew, Ian, like I need that image in my head!” (Now you know how I feel on a regular basis,) he said, cracking up. After a moment of grossing out, Eena all but begged Ian, “Please, can we change the subject.

For the briefest of seconds, it was like he looked back into the stands, like maybe he spotted me, shaking my rattle, giving him all the encouragement I could. I could have sworn I saw a corner of his mouth curl up. Then he did the whole Velcro batting glove thing and stepped up to the plate. The pitch came. He swung. Crack! He hit it! He hit it! I jumped up and started shouting. I had a second to see the stunned look on his face, like maybe he’d never hit the ball before, but that couldn’t be… And then I realized what it was. As he started running, he turned his head, his gaze following the ball… The ball that went out of the ballpark! Right over the Backyard Mania billboard! Home run! My boyfriend had hit a home run! I jumped around, pointing at the number on my jersey, hugging Bird, hugging Tiffany, watching Jason slapping his coach’s hand as he rounded third. I watched him cross home plate, wearing the biggest grin on his face. “You know what this means, don’t you?” Bird said. “That we’re ahead two to nothing?” “It means he’ll insist you sit in this exact spot for every game. He’ll think this is the good luck spot.” “No way.” “Either that, or he’ll ask you not to wash your underwear.” “Ew! That’s so not happening. Maybe I can convince him it was wearing the jersey.” Yeah, I thought. That’s the ticket.

I took a cinnamon roll and waved it under her nose. “Mmmm,” she said, her eyes still closed. I waved it around some more, totally amused that I was messing with her dreams. “AAAH!” I screamed as Rayna’s head zipped forward and she chomped down on the roll. “Excellent!” she said, sitting up. “Thanks!” “Rayna! You almost bit my finger off!” “You asked for it.” She took another bite. “Mmmm. Oh my God, this is totally better than sex.” She looked at me pointedly. “Would you agree?” “Whoa, subtle much?” “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” She knew it was the right thing to say, but her eyes were so clearly dying to know that I laughed out loud. I actually wanted to talk about it now, just to keep it alive in my head. I told her everything. Watching her reactions was like watching a silent movie: Her face registered every detail in IMAX-size emotions. “Am I allowed to have a moment of “ew” for my poor deflowered passenger seat?” she asked when I was finished. I winced and buried my head in my hands. “Um…yeah.” “Thank you.” She paused a moment, then grinned and burst out, “Clea, oh my God!!” “I know. I know.” “So what happens now?” “We go to Tokyo, just like we’d planned.” “What about Ben?” she asked. “Are you going to tell Ben?” I looked at her like she was crazy. “Hello! Not like everything you told me, just-are you going to let him know you’re together?” “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t think so…” “You really think you’re going to be able to hide it?

The spectrum of hatred against “irregardless” might be unmatched. Everyone claims to hate the word “moist,” but the dislike is general and jokey: ew, gross, “moist,” bleh. People’s hatred of “irregardless” is specific and vehemently serious: it cannot mean “without regard to” but must mean “with regard to,” so it’s nonsensical and shouldn’t exist; it’s a double negative and therefore not allowable by anyone with sense and judgment; it’s a redundant blend of “irrespective” and “regardless,” and we don’t need it; it is illogical and therefore not a word; it is a hallmark of uneducated speech and shouldn’t be entered into the dictionary. All of these complaints point in one direction: “irregardless” is evidence that English is going to hell, and you, Merriam-Webster, are skipping down the easy path, merrily swinging the handbasket. The truth is I felt for the complainant. “Irregardless” was just wrong, I thought—I knew this deep down at a molecular level, and no dictionary entry was going to convince me otherwise. But sharing my personal linguistic beef with the world was not part of the job, so I buttoned my yap and answered the correspondence. Yes, it’s entered, I said, but please note that it’s marked “nonstandard” (which is a fancy way of saying it’s not accepted by most educated speakers of English) and we have a very long usage paragraph after the one-word definition that explains you should use “regardless” instead. We are duty-bound to record the language as it is used, I concluded, gritting my teeth and mentally sprinkling scare quotes throughout the entire sentence.

We walked hand in hand toward the diner, until Ivy froze in her steps. 'What's wrong?' I asked, skimming the area around us, looking for some kind of threat. She made a sound of panic. 'Ivy?' My heart was starting to beat faster. 'I'm still wearing your shirt!' She hissed. 'Is that all, woman? Please.' I started walking again. She refused to budge. I turned back and lifted and eyebrow. 'What now?' She stepped up close and whispered dramatically, 'I'm not wearing a bra either!' I matched her tone to whisper back, 'Good thing the girls are perky!' 'Braeden!' She gasped. I threw back my head and laughed. 'C'mon. I'm so hungry I could eat the rotten end of a pig.' 'Oh my gosh, that's disgusting!' she burst out as I towed her along behind me. 'Awe, baby. That hurts my feelings.' She made a rude noise, and I grinned. I opened the door to the diner, and she walked in first. I had to hold back a smile when she crossed her arms over her unleashed girls. This chick was fucking hilarious. Rimmel waved wildly from a booth near the window. Ivy hurried to the table and slid in across from Romeo and Rimmel. I followed with a lot less hurry in my step and slid in right next to Ivy. Romeo looked at Ivy, then at me. We exchanged a look. He held out his fist to pound it out. I obliged. 'About damn time,' he grunted. Then he glanced at Rimmel, who had her hair piled on the top of her head and a pencil sticking out of the mess. 'Can we order now, smalls? I'm so hungry I could eat the ass out of a skunk.' Ivy and Rimmel both made gagging sounds. 'Good one,' I congratulated him. -Braeden, Ivy, Romeo and Rimmel

But it was taking forever. I was drooling hard as Cindy ate her chicken. I got impatient, so I reached into the furnace and pulled out the chicken before it was done. I didn’t bother blowing on it or anything, I was too hungry. I bit into the semi-cooked chicken meat. It was super hot, and it seared my tongue. “AHHHH!! Hssssssss!” I screamed and then hissed. I accidentally dropped my chicken on the grass. Cindy looked over to me. “What’s wrong?!” “Yikes! I burnt my tongue a bit. Now I know how Lucky felt.” “Oh, are you okay?” “I think so,” I said as I picked up my chicken. It was covered in grass and dirt. “Ew… it’s all dirty…” “Here, have some of my chicken. We can share,” Cindy suggested. I inspected my chicken further and shrugged. “It’s okay, dirt don’t hurt,” I said as I dusted off my semi-cooked chicken. “You’re still going to eat that?” Cindy asked with big o’ eyes. “Yeah, I can’t waste food.” “I guess you’re right.” I raised the chicken up to my mouth. The smell of dirt and grass filled my nostrils and I gagged a bit.

The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds' (2 Cor. 10:3-4). The Greek word translated as strongholds is ochuroma (pronounced oak-EW-ROH-muh), which means to fortify, lock up, or imprison. This is what our enemy tries to do to us. He lies to us until we're convinced that we're stuck and can never escape our problems.

Then came Dani’s turn to read a question. “‘Who’s in charge in the bedroom?’” Much to the group’s amusement, none of them got a match, and Sean didn’t think they would either as he held up his notepad. “‘I am, since I carry the big stick.’” Emma read hers with a remarkably straight face. “‘Sean, because he has a magic penis.’” “Wow. Um…so Sean and Emma have a point,” Dani said as the men nearly pissed themselves laughing. No way in hell was he leaving that unpunished, and he winked at Emma when Kevin read the next question. “‘Where’s the kinkiest place you’ve had sex?’” The fact that Joe and Keri had done the dirty deed on the back of his ATV led to a few questions about the logistics of that, but then it was Emma’s turn. “‘In bed, because Sean has no imagination.’” Roger threw an embarrassed wince his way, but his cousins weren’t shy about laughing their asses off. Sean just shrugged and held up his notepad. “In the car in the mall parking lot. Emma’s lying because she doesn’t want anybody to know being watched turns her on.” Her jaw dropped, but she recovered quickly and gave him a sweet smile that didn’t jibe with the “you are so going to get it” look in her eyes. Beth asked the next question. “‘Women, where does your man secretly dream of having sex?’” Keri knew Joe wanted to have sex in the reportedly very haunted Stanley Hotel, from King’s The Shining. Dani claimed Roger wanted to do the deed on a Caribbean beach, but he said that was her fantasy and that his was to have sex in an igloo. No amount of heckling would get him to say why. And when it came to Kevin, even Sean knew he dreamed of getting laid on the pitcher’s mound at Fenway Park. Then, God help him, it was Emma’s turn to show her answer. “‘In a Burger King bathroom.’” The room felt silent until Dani said, “Ew. Really?” “No, not really,” Sean growled. “Really,” Emma said over him. “He knows that’s the only way he can slip me a whopper.” As the room erupted in laughter, Sean knew humor was the only way they’d get through the evening with their secret intact, but he didn’t find that one very funny, himself. It was the final answer that really did him in, though. The question: “If your sex had a motto, what would it be?” Joe and Keri’s was, not surprisingly, Don’t wake the baby Kevin and Beth wrote, Better than chocolate cake, whatever that was supposed to mean. Dani wrote, Gets better with time, like fine wine, and Roger wrote, Like cheese, the older you get, the better it is, which led to a powwow about whether or not to give them a point. They probably would have gotten it if they weren’t tied with Keri and Joe, who took competitive to a cutthroat level. When they all looked at Sean, he groaned and turned his paper around. They’d lost any chance of winning way back, but he was already dreading what the smart-ass he wasn’t really engaged to had written down. “‘She’s the boss.’” The look Emma gave him as she slowly turned the notepad around gave him advance warning she was about to lay down the royal flush in this little game they’d been playing. “Size really doesn’t matter,” she said in what sounded to him like a really loud voice. Before he could say anything—and he had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth, but he had to say something--Cat appeared at the top of the stairs. “I hate to break up the party,” she said, “but it’s getting late, so we’re calling it a night.” Maybe Cat was, but Sean was just getting started.

Home run! My boyfriend had hit a home run! I jumped around, pointing at the number on my jersey, hugging Bird, hugging Tiffany, watching Jason slapping his coach’s hand as he rounded third. I watched him cross home plate, wearing the biggest grin on his face. “You know what this means, don’t you?” Bird said. “That we’re ahead two to nothing?” “It means he’ll insist you sit in this exact spot for every game. He’ll think this is the good luck spot.” “No way.” “Either that, or he’ll ask you not to wash your underwear.” “Ew! That’s so not happening. Maybe I can convince him it was wearing the jersey.” Yeah, I thought. That’s the ticket.

I say it reverently, if I understand the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, this is the vision He has given me of it: that all of heaven's ability and heaven's glory and heaven 's strength are at the disposal of the believer. This is the most miraculous thing the world ever saw. I believe that in the last days there is going to be an unveiling of the power of God, and multitudes will arise and live. Weymouth's translation of Romans 5:17 tells us that we reign as Kings in the Realm of Life in Christ. We are to absolutely reign as Christ, and with Christ. How? By faith. Is God your righteousness? You say, "I am trying to make Him my righteousness." Can you make Him your righteousness? If you believe on Jesus Christ, He IS your righteousness. Then go out and act it. Dare to let God loose in you.

Ew, he’s not my guy,” I said. “Fine, that guy you married that one time … Fred?” “George,” I said. “Weasley?” “Huh?” I looked up, confused. “Yikes, not a Harry Potter fan. You lose all cool points for that.” “I’m so confused. What are we even talking about?” Darius sighed.

Ew… we drink from that, Steve,” said Pierce. “Oh. Well, fine. I’ll build myself a separate well, then jump in it.”   “In that case, I just might have to join you.” Alex came in through the door. “You all ready? We’re going to start tracking Gavin today.” “Yeah!” I yelled. “Let’s go!

We were now in a bare and roomy lobby behind the shop, but separated therefrom by an iron curtain, the very sight of which filled me with despair. Raffles, however, did not appear in the least depressed, but hung up his coat and hat on some pegs in the lobby before examining this curtain with his lantern.

Ever since the Lutheran proclamation we have done one thing! We have magnified sin, we have preached the devil. we have preached our own wickedness and our own unrighteousness, and we have kept it before the people so continuously that no preacher or layman dares think of himself except in the terms of a poor weak worm of the dust!

Ew.” Tony’s face scrunched up like he’d just bit into a lemon. “Well we can’t have you making out with a relative, assumed or not. It’s not like we’re in Kentucky.” I stared at him, wide-eyed. “I have good friends in Kentucky, Tony.” “Y-you do? Well, I didn’t mean, I mean, it’s just an—

Ooh!” Willy pipes up. “Maybe he'll write a story about Santa and Mrs. Claus getting caught with their pants down with other people. If we get lucky, maybe he'll kill-” “Don't finish that sentence, elf.” “Randy, you're such a spoilsport. You can't say you haven't conjured up that scenario in your big head a time or a dozen. Continue. Maybe I'll write that story.” “No, you won't. Your idea of a good story is nothing but sex, sex, and more sex. You'd never make it through writing a chapter because you'd have to stop and jerk off a half dozen times.” “Ew! Not about Santa and Mrs. Claus. Yuck,” Willy comes back at him with a sour look on his face. “That's not even funny, Randy.

to Freyja.” and Odin is like “Can I at least have the octohorse?” and Loki is like “Only if I don’t have to do what you say anymore.” and Odin is like “FINE.” and Loki is like “HAHA, I PRANKED YOU THAT HORSE CAME OUT OF MY HORSE VAGINA.” And Odin is like “Ew, ick. I still want the horse though.” So the moral of the story is that only a sucker pays full price for masonry. Oh, speaking of which let me tell you about another really gross thing Loki had sex with . . . FENRIR IS A DILF So one day, Loki’s wandering around Jotunheim and he sees this chick Angrboða pronounced ANGER BOW THE and he is like “Well, I know she’s pretty ugly and her name is kinda like a reference book entry for THE ANGER BOW but you know what? I’m gonna tap that and have three kids with that and all three of those kids are going to be horrible beasts that bring on the apocalypse. I see no problems with this.” So for now, let’s just focus on the first kid: a giant wolf named Fenrir. Now Loki brings baby Fenrir to Asgard and the Aesir all instantly know that this wolf is gonna be the death of them mainly because it is a GIANT WOLF NAMED FENRIR. But instead of doing anything about it they decide to see if they can just raise it as their own presumably because they don’t want to hurt Loki’s feelings. So this god Tyr the god of single combat and being awesome gets put in charge of feeding Fenrir because he’s the only person with sufficient testicular mass to actually go near the wolf and Fenrir gets bigger and bigger and holy shit bigger until the gods start to be like “Uhh . . . we should really do something about this wolf.” So what they do is they make a big metal chain. This chain is so incredibly massive that they don’t feel right until they give it a name that name is Leyding. So they go up to Fenrir like “Hey, man I bet you totally can’t break out of this chain.” And Fenrir is like “Okay, bring it.” So they tie him up and he pretty much just breaks the chains like cobwebs and he gets famous because of that and the gods are like “Fuck, that backfired. Okay, let’s make a better chain.” so they make a chain that is TWO TIMES AS STRONG and they name it Dromi and they go back to Fenrir like “Bet you can’t break THIS chain.” And Fenrir is like “I don’t know if I want to let you tie me up again.” And the gods are like “Don’t you want to be double famous?” and Fenrir is like “Ugh, okay.” So he lets them tie him up again and he flexes a little, but the chain doesn’t break so then he kicks the chain, and it does break and the gods are all like “Okay we definitely need a better chain. Somebody call some dwarves.” So the dwarves are like “Okay the mistake you guys have been making is you have been trying to make a chain out of actual things that exist such as metal instead of abstract concepts such as the sound of a cat’s footfall.” So what the dwarves do is they take the sound of a cat’s footfall along with the roots of a mountain the sinews of a bear the beard of a woman— remember, these are dwarves— and the breath of a fish, and the spit of a bird so that’s why you can’t hear cats walking around and mountains don’t have roots and fish don’t breathe, and birds don’t spit but I think bears still probably have sinews and I have definitely met me some bearded ladies so I guess the dwarves were not that thorough. But anyway somehow they manage to distill all this shit into THE ULTIMATE

It is when our hearts are so before God and so with God, that we learn the wondrous wisdom of His way, and the perfection, sweetness, and blessedness of His will. We yearn to possess it, we long for it, and desire to come into its joy; and our own will vanishes without an effort, and without our knowing it, until we discover afterwards what has happened by a happy experience. In Millennial days this will be the blessing of the whole earth. For in that day there shall be one King, one will, "one Lord, and His name one.

Matt. 5:3 “Blessed are the poor in the pneuma [of them]”: i.e., in their spirit. Or, poor as to their spirit. Here the article is used grammatically, to indicate the possessive pronoun, and pneuma is used as denoting character. Character is spoken of at pneuma because it is invisible; in contrast to that which is visible. This verse, when compared with verse 8, may refer to mental endowments of which we are apt to be so proud; and the other to those affections of the feelings by which we are so apt to be led astray.

Laura: Ew. So gross. I don’t want to hear about you and Justin getting it on, Elizabeth. I’ve known him since we were twelve. I watched him pick his nose and wipe it on his desk in sixth grade. He’s basically a disgusting, goober dork. And no amount of muscle, handsomeness, fame, skill, or two-hundred-dollar jeans can change that.

Did you really have sex with them in the principal’s office, or were you just lying to get me out of being suspended along with Jace?” “Oh, it happened.” I grinned. “And made sure we ruined all his important documents.” Scrunching her nose, Allie fake gagged. “Ew, gross.” “Bitch, I saw those pictures. You do worse shit with your stepbrother. Don’t judge.

That’s my girl.” “Ew, Andrew,” I grumbled, but at least we were back in comfortable territory.

Uh, I think I speak for all of us when I say, ew,” Dex complained as he sat down next to Biana. Biana shoved him. “That’s not what he meant. And gross—he’s my brother! He knows not to tell me that kind of stuff.” “Um, there’s nothing to tell!” Sophie emphasized. “Okay, but why not?” Stina asked, joining them on the grass. “We’re talking about kissing Fitz Vacker, aren’t we? Fitz! Vacker!” She curled her arms around her knees and stared dreamily at the swaying branches. “How are you not—” “All right, just so we’re all clear,” Biana interrupted, holding out her hands like stop signs. “I’m good with Sophie dating my brother. It’s a little weird, but… whatever. But that doesn’t mean I want to hear about it.” “YUP!” Dex agreed.

which We have blessed, that We might show him some of Our Signs.’12 In contrast, the importance of Jerusalem for ews derived from the site of their two destroyed Temples, towards which the Jews still pray daily. Jerusalem, not mentioned in the Koran, is mentioned

Me: Are you saying we’ll be doing homework at our sleepover? Bash: How about we don’t call it a sleepover? You’re making us sound like twelve-year-old besties. Me: Ew, yeah. I’ll do better. Bash: And no, no homework. I’m not texting you all the things I’m going to do to you. Me: So it can’t be used against you at the trial? Bash: What am I going to be on trial for? Me: Um...stalking? Bash: Is it really stalking if the victim likes it? Me: You should ask your lawyer. Bash: Just called. She said no. I’m not your stalker, just your boyfriend. Me: My psycho boyfriend? Bash: Goes without saying. Me: Okay. Just checking. I’m going to do some homework for real now. Bash: Look under your pillow first. Me: My black panties? Bash: Wear them tomorrow. Me: And if I don’t? Bash: Guess you’ll find out. Me: Why do I like you? Bash: That’s a good question. Me: Good night! Bash: Good night, baby.

Anyway, the MI-17 made for one hell of a ride. It was a monstrous chopper, more like an armoured tank in the sky. Th e insides had a few metal seats on either side. First-come-fi rst-served, you sat wherever you found space. The mothers took the seats and the brats sat on the cold metal floor, among camouflage-green nets, wooden boxes and miscellaneous military cargo. As the chopper rose, I peered at my father waving from the small helipad made by plateauing a mountain top with the Army’s engineering expertise. Some moments stay with you forever. Th is particular one has stood the test of time. As we fl ew off to the safest military base, I stuck my nose against the tiny window and kept waving back till my father became an olive-hued speck on the concrete helipad.

2 Cor. 10:3-5 (I want to read a new translation) “For though we walk in the realm of the senses, we do not war according to the senses, (for the weapons of our warfare are not the senses, but are mighty before God to the casting down of strongholds); casting down sense reasoning and every high thing that would exalt itself against the Word of God, and bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ.

That was a good shot. Real proper backhanded compliment. “Ouch. Okay. No. I just legitimately don’t think I fall under the urban dictionary definition of ‘cool’.” He laughed, “Who does?” I looked him over pointedly. “Hello?” “Naw, you think I’m cool?” I rolled my eyes. “I think the rest of the school thinks so.” “They might think you are if you gave them a chance.” “Firstly, ew. No thank you. Secondly, if I have to talk to people, no.” “Of course not. We wouldn’t want to run the risk of social interaction, now. Would we?” I gave him a smile. “See? You get it.

War-time Japan was an unbelievable utopia; a certain empty beauty pervaded it throughout. This was not the beauty of human truth. So long as ew forget to think, we can easily find in this sight an unsurpassable show of nonchalance and magnificence. Even with the unceasing fear of bombings, people were always nonchalant just so long as they didn't think and needed only to gave entranced. I too was one of those fools. In all innocence, I was playing with the war,

We come to realize that we are a part of Him as a branch is a part of the vine; that He is a part of us as the vine is a part of the branch; that we have His life, we have His ability, we have His love nature, we have His strength.

Ugh,” Tara groaned as she pulled the door open and looked at the bodies on the floor. “They smell.” “Well yeah,” Paige said. “They’ve evacuated their bowels at this point.” “You don’t mean…” Bailey trailed off. “They shit themselves?” Tara scoffed. “Yeah,” Paige shrugged. “It happens after you die sometimes.” “Normally we take care of the bodies too quickly to worry about it,” Anna added. “Ew,” Tara said. “I second that ew,” Bailey agreed.

Maybe we should change plans. I feel a fever coming on.” She looked over at him. “Oh really?” He nodded and gave her a serious look. “Yes. I think I need to call and tell them I’ll be in bed for a week. It’s bad. Want to play nurse?” She pulled her hand free and pinched his arm. “Stop. There’s no going back now. We’re doing this. Plus, you’re going to be fine. I’m here to run interference. They’ll be much more likely to take jabs at me than you.” His expression darkened. “I’m not going to let them insult you, Liv. That’s a deal breaker.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Let ’em. After the week I had, I can deal with whatever they throw at me.” He lowered the radio. “You do seem oddly calm about all this. You remember my dad, right?” “Vividly.” “So is it just the sex relaxing you or something else?” He sent her a look of mock concern. “Have you been drinking? Eating mushrooms? Dropping acid?” “Not exactly.” She took a breath and looked forward. “Worse.” “Worse than dropping acid? I’m not even sure what that would be. Meth? Toad licking?” She grimaced. “Ew, gross. Not as bad as licking toads.” “Well, that’s a relief. We did just kiss.” “I quit my job.” “You—” The car jerked to a halt, the tires screeching as he almost missed a stop sign. “What?” She bit her lip and glanced his way. “Yes. That look on your face. That’s basically what I’ve been feeling inside since I walked out of work last night.” He stared at her, green eyes searching. “You’re just telling me this now? Liv…” She shrugged. “I was going to lead with that, but then you had to go and be all hot and seductive. I just quit my job is kind of a mood killer. Plus, I’m…okay about it.

First thing I’m gonna do when we get home is go jump in the town well,” I said. “Ew… we drink from that, Steve,” said Pierce.

Sounds great,” Cha0s said. “It’s a date!” Parker ended the call. “Ew, ew, ew!” she said. “I want to wash off my phone. No, I want to disinfect it. No, I want to throw it into the ocean.” “When we’re done,” Nate said. “You might need that until then.” “Great work, Parker,” Sophie said. “You reeled him in well. You could have a future in that sort of work.” “Don’t even think about it,” Parker said. “For Hardison, I’ll do it, but—ew!

Karly- I stopped wearing my glasses after that day, when Jess Smith walked up and ripped them off my face and broke them in half, and poked me in the boob hard. I miss them, what wrong with glasses, they make you look sophisticated. Why was I so quiet and laid back, and a pushover? Marcel- She runs like everything for the bathroom, like always- not making it very far. She feels like some poor little girl, with a broken nose, and I remember when that happened. That is when I felt like she was in love with me she took the balls to the face for me. ‘I thought you liked balls in your face one boy said.’ You tripped and fell to the ground, hard, and I picked you up and carried you to safety, and we fell in love, even more, kissing under the bleachers. ‘You’re a weirdo,’ and the kiss was long and – fearing H-O-T! Like, kick your tongue out smoking hot! It’s still not as bad as the time my face was smashed to a brick wall, by some back boy- and I have to have something done about it, like getting my nose redone, yet I blamed it on my dad. Jenny- Sing the same girlie crap every year, you’ll blow chunks all over the place, which never happened, that’s why she stopped singing way back when. You can see here doing it on YouTube! Like- It happened! Jenny says every time someone brings it up. Until some unicycles guy flies into the frame where nothing freaking speedo- showing his tor·pe·do with the American flag up his ass! I don’t know if that is patriotic or what the hell that is… I am not sure what to look at. What can you say other than- ‘Ew-ah- gross…? Who does that…?’ Marcel- It kind of reunions the magic does it…? I spoke. Karly- Yep! I am glad I cannot see all that anyway! I am sure yours is better anyway. (She goes underneath his underwear down for it, getting a handful, and does what she feels is right in front of them all. It was more romantic than you would think pervs.) I did it for me and him, I did not give a crap; if they liked it or not… they can all look the other way. I have- a leaning popping lag kisses, and he rubbed his nose on mine saying it- I LOVE YOU! You’ll be fine… I’ll make sure of that. Karly- Back in time: We rain from the schoolyard to my house… stole my dad’s Nash and got married. My stepmother cased us down, with a bible in her hand saying we were sinners. Both- We’re sinner okay then- we all are- yet love is love even if age is in the way. Marcel- the very next day, it was all over. Say what you want to say… I know why- how- and who.

But then I think that it would be senseless if we stopped caring, stopped helping, stopped noticing that tiny fleck of sadness in a patient’s eyes on a lonely Christmas Eve.  Everyone in this industry matters.  One smile, one ‘have a better day,’ one ‘here, let me help you with that,’ can save someone from losing him/herself in the senselessness of the rest of the world.

When you live in that Name and walk in that Name, the Devil cannot tell you from Jesus. You look like Him. You are clothed in His righteousness; you are filled with His life. You have His Name stamped upon you. Ah. but He did more than that. He gave to us the Revelation. We call it the Word, and this Word is the Word of the Spirit. That

We rob the work of Jesus Christ of its efficacy, and we stand powerless before the adversary because we have doubted the integrity of the Word of God.

He used to tell me stories while we fished. Ones he made up, I guess, I’m not sure. One year, a beaver family dammed the brook and built a lodge. He made up stories about them, very 'Wind in the Willows' stuff. He used to tell me that the fish were water spirits, or lost mermaids, or nixies; it was always something different. So, we always threw the fish back. He said it would bring us luck.