Welp Quotes

Welp,” I said, which was usually how I started conversations about ways to save our butts from certain destruction. “Any ideas?

The hasty bitch bringeth forth blind welps

Then Ben tugged my elbow. Nodded to his left. “Kit?” “Yeah?” “Can you pull the car around? I’ll be there in a sec.” Kit’s gaze flicked to Ben, then he nodded. “Five minutes.” As my father strode away, Shelton and Hi both unleashed dramatic yawns. “Welp.” Hi stretched his arms over his head. “I’d better go check on various things that aren’t right here. You coming, Shelton?” “Oh, you know it.” Hiding a smile. “Stuff to do. No time to waste.” They hurried off together, chuckling quietly. Thanks, guys. This couldn’t be more awkward. Ben was looking at me, a soft smile on his lips. Panic.

Welp, my best friend now knew what I sounded like when I was getting railed to within an inch of my life. My face flared with heat.

Dad slugged back the Rolling Rock. He used to only drink Budweiser until those commercials with the frogs came out. He’d said, “Welp. Can’t drink moron beer,” finished the rest of his Budweiser that night and, as far as Dan knew, had yet to touch another

Welp I'm fucked, how am I meant to do that?! “Dilmore?

A man in love tells you straight. A boy in love tells you with actions. A boy in love who’s tryin’ to deny it, welp, that boy’s gonna drive you to the brink of insanity and back.

Welp, you know the old saying. If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, go fuck yourself because you were an idiot for letting it go in the first place.

Jackson’s face turns as red as a beet. “I’m saying’…Shit, I’m saying I want to spend time with you. In a romantic capacity.” Romantic capacity? Welp, that’s the most unromantic way to put it, but beggars can’t be choosers, and the poor boy looks as if he’s going to shit himself.

Trust me, I definitely know what nuts look like.” Welp, that sounds obscenely sexual. “Want to try some?” “Of your nuts?” Blake shakes his head. “No, thanks, love.” “Why not? Are you scared of my nuts, Blake?” I tilt my head, leaning into the mess I’ve made by turning my trail mix into a sexual innuendo. “Scared they’re bigger and better than yours?

So the Talmud says it was an evil place. It was a crime in Sodom to feed the hungry and clothe the naked. Beggars were given marked coins that no shop would accept. Welp. In the USA right now there are places where it’s a crime to help homeless people. Plenty of stores don’t accept food stamps. So are we in it? Do we have enough sense to get ourselves out if we are?

Well," Puck commented, looking around at our odd party, "this is it, huh? I must admit, this is probably one of the stranger things I've had to do, with one of the stranger groups I've had to do it with." The Wolf snorted. "No stranger than usual, Goodfellow." "I guess not." Puck sighed, then straightened with a bright grin, rubbing his hands. "Welp, as a certain furball would point out, time's a-wasting. Who's up for saving the Nevernever one more time?

… Das verschlug mir für einen Moment die Sprache, ich hatte nicht gedacht, dass es so schlimm um sie stand. »Das tut mir leid … Kann ich irgendetwas tun?« Nat lächelte schwach. »Hast du das nicht schon? Danke. Hau dich lieber ins Bett. Du musst früh raus. Oder hast du morgen keine Schicht?« Während ich die restliche Soße in einen Behälter füllte und in den Kühlschrank stellte, nickte ich bejahend. »Stimmt, Punkt fünf muss ich dort sein, um bei den Vorbereitungen zu helfen.« Seit ich vor sechs Monaten aus Amerika zurückgekommen war, jobbte ich als Frühstückskellner im Radisson Blu Palais Hotel, direkt am Parkring. Eine feine Adresse in Wien, vollgestopft mit gut betuchten Damen, die gerne zu viel Trinkgeld gaben. Mir konnte das mehr als Recht sein. Nur das Aufstehen war die Hölle. »Du weißt, wie streng meine Chefin ist, da gibt es kein Zuspätkommen.« Bei meinen Worten prustete Nat los: »Ja klar, als ob du sie nicht schon längst um den Finger gewickelt hättest mit deinen tiefblauen Augen«, wobei er das Wort tiefblau mit den Fingern in Anführungszeichen setzte und zu quietschen versuchte, wie es eine Bekannte von uns letzten Samstag auf einer Party getan hatte. Verspielt klimperte ich mit den Wimpern und lehnte mich an die Küchenzeile. Wieder musste Nat schmunzeln, wobei er dieses Mal schluckte, bevor er weiterredete: »Hör auf mit dem Scheiß. Verdammt, wenn ich eine Braut wäre, würde ich auch auf dich stehen. Aber weißt du was?« Nun tippte er mit der leeren Gabel in meine Richtung. »Ich würde nie mit dir ins Bett gehen, weil ich Angst vor Syphilis hätte.« Theatralisch griff ich mir mit der Hand an die Brust und verzog schmerzverzerrt das Gesicht. »Das tut weh! Dabei wärst du so eine geile Schnitte, mit deinen blonden Locken und braunen Augen. Du brichst mir das Herz.« Endlich erreichte Nats Lächeln auch wieder seine Augen und ich atmete innerlich erleichtert auf, bevor ich weiter blödelte. »Du bräuchtest dir gar keine Sorgen darum zu machen, Schatz. Ich nehme doch immer ein Kondom.« »Zum Glück«, betonte er laut, »für die ganze Stadt, sonst würden drei Viertel der Frauen bereits krank im Spital liegen.« Damit brachte er auch mich zum Lachen. »Du bist ein Idiot.« Anstatt mir eine schnelle Retourkutsche zu verpassen, zwinkerte er mir zu und stopfte sich genüsslich den nächsten Happen in den Mund. »Deshalb ist es auch keine schlechte Idee, wenn du wieder losziehst, um die Frauen anderer Städte zu beglücken, damit unsere in Frieden weiterleben können. Weißt du schon, wann es soweit ist?« Eigentlich hatte ich vorgehabt, spätestens im Herbst aufzubrechen und wieder für einige Zeit in Amerika herumzustreunen. Doch so wie mich Nat jetzt anguckte, wie ein zurückgelassener Welpe, meldete sich mein schlechtes Gewissen. Daher zuckte ich mit den Schultern. »Keine Ahnung. In den nächsten Monaten vielleicht. Warum?« Er fragte nicht grundlos, etwas in seinem Blick machte mich unruhig, aber ich konnte nicht sagen was oder warum. Wir hatten die letzten Wochen schon einige Male darüber geredet. Bisher hatte er noch nie Probleme damit gehabt, dass ich manchmal für drei, vier Monate aus dem Land verschwand. Nat leckte die Gabel ab und stellte das Geschirr in die Spüle. »Nichts. Nur so.« … (Bildquelle: pinterest) ‪

If someone keep stripping away our things, rights, freedoms, then we’LP hold on to what we know.

You’ll have to be my XO for now. You like that idea?” Chief arched an eyebrow. “No, ma’am.” “Welp,” Oliver said, “if you wanted options, you wouldn’t have joined the military. Let’s get this show on the road, XO!” “Aye aye, ma’am,

Oh, you know, it’s the usual elven bullshit,” I told her. “I had my meeting with Aeris last night while you ladies were at the feast, and he didn’t seem very surprised to hear the head of House Syru had runes engraved on him. Now that I think about it, he seemed to care the least about that part, in fact.” “So … ” Cayla led, “how does that put you in the doghouse?” “Welp,” I belched. “Now, I get to hand over a hundred and fifty rifles, and if I’m a good boy he’ll talk to me about rune magic when I’m done.” I sent a pointed look in their general direction, but I was too drunk to tell if I’d gotten it right. “So obviously … I’m drinking and fucking around instead.

Jax stood up straight and clapped his hands together. “Welp,” he announced, “I’m bored. This is stupid and I’m bored.

Since she couldn’t break me with her eyes, she went back behind her desk, sat down, and pressed a button on her phone. “Mr. Milagros,” she said, “are you there?” A second later, a crackly walkie-talkie voice with a thick Cuban accent said, “Para servirle.” “How is the chicken cleanup going?” “¿Bueno?” he began, stretching the word out to three seconds. Usually, “bueno” means “good,” but the way he said it then meant “welp.” And that’s all he said. “Mr. Milagros, are you still there?” “Para servirle.” Principal Torres massaged her forehead. “Me puede servir by telling me about the mess you had to clean up.” “¿Bueno?” She waited five Mississippis, tapping each second out on the desk with her finger. Then, carefully controlling her voice, she asked, “What does ‘bueno’ mean?” He sighed. “It’s like this. I went back to the locker to clean it up. Made up a whole new bucket of cleaner for it, bien fuerte. Like, I could mop up a dead body with it, because basically that’s what it was, a dead chicken body. If a student accidentally tripped and fell in my mop bucket, ooh, sería un desastre! It’d turn that kid into Kool-Aid.” “The chicken, Mr. Milagros. Did you clean it up?” The walkie-talkie crackled as Mr. Milagros put his thoughts in order. “¿Bueno? I was going to. I was all ready to. But when I got to the lockers, no chicken.

Ma'll be back," he said. "I dunno. She's wearin' her gator shoes." "A ma don't leave her kids. It ain't in 'em." "You told me that fox left her babies." "Yeah, but that vixen got 'er leg all tore up. She'd've starved to death if she'd tried to feed herself 'n' her kits. She was better off to leave 'em, heal herself up, then welp more when she could raise 'em good. Ma ain't starvin', she'll be back." Jodie wasn't nearly as sure as he sounded, but said it for Kya. Her throat tight, she whispered, "But Ma's carryin' that blue case like she's goin' somewheres big.

As he walks away I think, Don't ask don't ask don't ask, and then I ask. 'Why'd you do this?' Niall pauses and looks over his shoulder. His hair and eyes are very black, his skin silver. He says, 'Because you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives together.' Then he adds, 'Seeya.

Welp.

Welp. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Der Welpe hatte einfach eine Art, sich einem ins Herz zu stehlen, selbst wenn es aus Stein war.

I’m a grown damn man—my mother cannot tell me what to do.” “Okay.” “She can’t.” “I said, okay.” “Right, but you don’t believe me. You’re mocking me on the inside. I can feel it.” I nod, because he’s correct. “Then go in there and tell her we’re not staying, you big baby.” Silence. More silence. The sound of a car driving down a gravel road in the distance. An owl hooting. More silence. “Welp. Looks like we’re spending the night.” I’m dying—can barely contain my laughter. “I hate you so much right now,” he whispers. “No you don’t,” I whisper back, because he doesn’t.

Her breasts, although not large, jutted out shamelessly under the soft, warm, heavy fabric, free of the tight undergarments that imprisoned them during the day.

Dad slugged back the Rolling Rock. He used to only drink Budweiser until those commercials with the frogs came out. He’d said, “Welp. Can’t drink moron beer,” finished the rest of his Budweiser that night and, as far as Dan knew, had yet to touch another.

Welp.” The man apparently named Nero, not just N, claps his hands together. “Is there a reception lunch or something? I’m famished.