Wifey Quotes

You want to see safe hands?' her dad asked. He went to the fruit bowl on the side of the table, took two apples and proceeded to juggle them. 'See? Safe as anything.' 'Are you proposing you juggle our newborn child?' 'Of course not,' he said. 'I'd only be able to juggle her if you'd had twins. Otherwise it would just be throwing.' (...) 'From this moment on, I will be the best father the world has ever seen. Wifey, may I please hold my child?' Valkyrie's mum looked at him suspiciously. 'When you hold a baby, what's the most important thing to remember?' 'Not to drop it,' he said proudly. 'Well, yes, well done dear, but I was thinking more about how you hold the baby.' 'Ah,' he said, 'Of course. The secret to holding a baby is to pick it up by the scruff of its neck.' 'You're thinking of kittens.' 'Pick it up by the ears, then.' 'You're thinking of nothing.' 'Can I please just hold her?' 'I don't think that's wise.' 'A lot of things aren't wise, Melissa. Is crossing the road with your eyes closed wise? No, but I do it anyway.' His wife nodded. 'Stephanie, you are in charge of teaching Alice how to cross the road.

Are you strutting, Wifey?" asked Mini. Aiden suddenly slowed. Brynne looked him over and snorted. "Yup, he's definitely strutting." "Am not," said Aiden. "Yeah you are!" , said Aru, laughing. "Am not" "R-2-" "D-2-," said Aiden before giving up and shaking his head. "Why are you guys like this?" "Boredom," said Mini. "Belligerence," said Brynne. "Brilliance," said Aru. The three of them grinned at each other.

The song ended, but I kept my arms wrapped tight around her, not letting her move an inch. If she was having some internal battle again, she could do so in my arms. “Watcha doing, wifey?” I joked, secretly enjoying the sound of that.

People think that being a wifey and a mom is supposed to be enough to satisfy you one hundred percent. But I know how it feels to still want more.

Grab me a chib, wifey. Shite’s about to get real.

Keep busy, Sandy ... when you're busy you don't have time to brood ..." "Life should be more than keeping busy." "Maybe it should be, but for most of us, it's not.

The only thing we can never get enough of is love. And the one thing we never give is enough love.

I mean, I can’t just jump into the twenty-first century without knowing how the wifey works—” “Wi-Fi.

When husband and wife fights, the door cries.

You know when you’re going to be decidedly less amused? When I’m sendin’ you to the store at 3am because I’m craving a certain brand of pickles.” Carter takes a step back, rolls his eyes at me again, and grabs his plate. “Come on, wifey.” “And my back is already aching from carrying around your spawn. I hope you’re plannin’ to give me a back rub later.” “Are your feet swelling up, too? Maybe I should just buy you a whole spa day.” “I mean, it’s the least you could do for the mother of your child.

One day, years down the road, we’ll be gray-haired and soft in the middle section, drinking an enormous glass of spiced rum and eggnog around the Christmas tree. I’ll make some joke about the night I offered friends-with-benefits to you. Rhett will howl. Summer will roll her eyes, because I’m going to tell her tomorrow, and she’ll think I’m ridiculous for bringing it up so many years later. Your small-town wifey will throw a hand over her chest”—Willa imitates the motion—“and act scandalized all night. In fact, she’ll give me the cold shoulder for the rest of our lives. And I’ll outlive her, so that’s fine. Joke’s on her. I win. And my husband will be accustomed to my antics, so he’ll just roll his eyes and continue drinking.

I've learned not to worry about love; but to honor its coming with all my heart.

Naw, don’t usually have lattes with gangsters.

Hey, wifey. Remember me?” I bite my lip, trying not to laugh as I nod and attempt to fix my hair, swiping it out of my face. But he winks and rubs his jaw, tapping a finger to it as he adds, “Good. Now, give daddy a kiss and make it better.

Here, the women of my family all met under one sign, stamped by what confining fates we had been handed. A girl had no choice in the familythat made her. No choice in the many names that followed her, wet-lipped and braying in the street. She was Psssst. And Jubi. And Catty. Mampy. Matey. Wifey. Dawlin. B. And Heffa. My Size. Empress. Brownine. Fluffy. Fatty. Slimmaz. Mawga Gyal. And Babes. Sweets. Chu Chups. And Ting. Machine. Mumma. Sketel. Rasta Gyal. Jezebel. And Daughter.

What does 'wifey material' even mean when someone at the Washington Post thinks the headline 'Marriage Is for White People?' is okay? The article, of course, became another one of Gina's and my obsessions. The Washington fucking Post was against us now.

If you couldn't be yourself around somebody then, you didn't need to be around that person.

so long. I’m just so tired of this game. I know I got the luxuries but sometimes I’d rather just have my man. Sometimes the game can drain you.

i have blackmail photos of Sam (olive oil) cuddling harry styles and Nial Horan, help

protect the balls

Love loves to love love

Ladies, being able to submit to your future husband requires a deeper trust in God who created him.

So, hubby, where do we live?” “In hell, wifey. In. Fucking. Hell.

Wife and loneliness are the best friends of a man. If wife leaves you, loneliness follows you wherever you are!

The ability to feel the presence of one's wife in her absence is indeed one of the greatest blessing a man can achieve!

Eyes are up here, wifey.”  “I’m a doctor, Rhodes. Aced anatomy, in fact. I know where your eyes are located. I just don’t care right now.

There, too, the books that seemed to be on every American middlebrow, middle-class, middle-everything shelf in those years: Updike’s Couples and Judy Blume’s Wifey, Oriana Fallaci and Gay Talese, Stephen King, Peter Straub, and Leonard Michaels.

ebook.

kevinelliott3@gmail.com

God gave you the capacity to invent, work, create and to be brilliant.

Here, the women of my family all met under one sign, stamped by what confining fates we had been handed. A girl had no choice in the family that made her. No choice in the many names that followed her, wet-lipped and braying in the street. She was Psssst. And Jubi. And Catty. Mampy. Matey. Wifey. Dawlin. B. And Heffa. My Size. Empress. Brownine. Fluffy. Fatty. Slimmaz. Mawga Gyal. And Babes. Sweets. Chu Chups. And Ting. Machine. Mumma. Sketel. Rasta Gyal. Jezebel. And Daughter.

A father is an animal the moment he loves his public reputation more than his children but the father becomes a father of his children, the moment he loves his children more than his public reputation. Fathers are plenty whereas what we lack today is a selfless father.

For if single women are looking for government to create a "hubby state" for them, what is certainly true is that their male counterparts have a long enjoy the fruits of a related "wifey state," in which the nation and its government supported male independence in a variety of ways. Men, and especially married wealthy white men, have a long relied on government assistance. It's a government that has historically supported white men's home and business ownership through grants, loans, incentives, and tax breaks. It has allowed them to accrue wealth and offer them shortcuts and bonuses for passing it down to their children. Government established white men's right to vote and thus exert control over the government at the nation's founding and has protected their enfranchisement. It has also bolstered the economic and professional prospects of men by depressing the economic prospects of women: by failing to offer women equivalent economic and civic protections, thus helping to create conditions whereby women were forced to be dependent on those men, creating a gendered class of laborers who took low paying or unpaid jobs doing the domestic and childcare work that further enabled men to dominate public spheres. But the growth of a massive population of women who are living outside those dependent circumstances puts new pressures on the government: to remake conditions in a way that will be more hospitable to female independence, to a citizenry now made up of plenty of women living economically, professionally, sexually, and socially liberated lives.

A father is an animal the moment he loves his public reputation more than his children but the father becomes a father of his children, the moment he loves his children more than his public reputation. What we lack today is a selfless father who loves his children not a father who is addicted to his public reputation than his children. Fathers are plenty but a transparent and sincere fathers are few.

You never lose by loving, you lose by holding back.

By the time I pay his ass, we’ll have made about three hundred thousand off his hundred.

You implanted the heroin in this woman’s body?

Well the Lord said, be fruitful and multiply.

I knew Tez and me would never be together, so why not marry this mothafucka. I kind of felt bad for his other kids and Shay, but hell, I wanted to be a family with my child’s father too. So oh well! It ain’t my fault she wasn’t wifey material.

Brother, you and I both know that you’re one of those guys who could go either way.  You could be the nice guy, who settles down with a nice wifey, and some brats.  Or you could end up being the guy who terrorises the fucking female population.  At least I just fuck them, and move on.  You’d end up keeping one as a fucking pet.  You remember what the doctors said back then.  Obsessive.  Borderline psychotic.

I've a wife so I've my life!

Coleman physically seethed. "Now you got ya lil' wifey,” I chuckled. “Move the fuck around and enjoy her. I'll be sure to enjoy Gianna so much tonight that you gon' hear her screams of pleasure clear ‘cross town.

Being wifey means that there is a mistress behind you and a ho behind her. You all are ranked. You should not have to be number one, because when a man really loves you, he will make you his wife.

You chose to be wifey, Rae, and a wifey is not the same thing as a wife. That’s what you young girls have mixed up. You think being a man’s main woman gives you prestige. You think it gives you clout, but it makes you look like a fool, Raven.

Eyes are up here, wifey.

Isaiah tucks a rogue strand behind my ear, running his palm over my hair until he wraps my ponytail around his fist once. Twice. He tugs, ensuring I’m looking up and making eye contact with him. “Make sure you keep your eyes on me tonight, wifey. I have a feeling I’m going to have a good night at bat, and I want you to watch.”  “You always want me to watch.”  “Mmm, and I like to watch too, you know.”  My mouth goes dry at his insinuation.  “But yes, I do love your attention.”  “Because you’re obsessed with me.”  He chuckles close to my ear. “I think that’s the perfect word to describe how I feel about you, Doc.” Isaiah nips my earlobe before soothing it with a soft kiss on my neck.

I’d also gone to escape the feeling that if I didn’t, I’d spend my life watching Ly fall in love, get married, raise a family. And where would that leave me? The best friend that got to work manual labor beside him? The best friend who got to share a few beers on a weekend? The best friend who watched his kids so he and the wifey could have a date night? I hadn’t known who I was without Ly. But I’d known I had to figure it out if I wanted a life that didn’t turn me into nothing more than a bystander to happiness.

No.” Beckett shook his head. “The city, the front office, the management. You’re radio silent. And there are some PR concerns.” Oh. I chuckled and relaxed a bit. “You mean your wifey is giving you shit?” His tight expression turned almost murderous as his eyes turned to slits. “Don’t duck with my wife.

Okay, wifey, I’m just trying to make sure you understood so no one will talk about you. It would be embarrassing for you, my parents, and for us as a couple. I’m sorry if I am repeating myself. Look, I have to go—

Dear hubby, I’d like a divorce. Since you’re rich and famous, you’re paying for the lawyer. And since I’m not a gold digger, there’s no fee for the memories. Love, your future ex-wifey Hit me up when you rise and shine, sleeping beauty. I’m at The Palm Tree Motel, rm #17 408-242-8381

Father is an animal the moment he loves his public reputation more than his children but the father becomes a father of his children, the moment he loves his children more than his public reputation. Fathers who are addicted to their public reputation than their children are plenty whereas transparent and sincere fathers who loves their children than their reputation are few. And that requires sacrifice that proves you are worthy of being a father of your child. Don't be one, if you cant be one of the sacrificers!

There are times in life which proves life is wife and wife is life.

Love can never let you down because love is perfect.

regardless of whether he was right or not. “Did momma call you?” Keyshawn stuck his damn giraffe neck in the doorway. “Naw,” I fibbed. His mother never called me, so I knew that he was behind her calling me, and if he already knew that she was going to call, then there was really

Happiness is happiness wherever and whomever you find it with.

It’s a beautiful thing when the next person can see the love in your eyes. Not too many people have that kind of connection. Cherish it and always keep it fresh.

I won’t sit here with my legs tangled together and take orders like a good little soldier.” My voice was surprisingly calm. “I’m not my father, and I sure don’t intend to comfortably fit into the tidy, screwed-up box you created for me. You want me to stay away from Brock? You do the same with other women. You mess around with me, and me only.” Where did that come from? I wasn’t entirely sure, but I liked extra-feisty Sparrow. Knew she might be the death of me, but still rooted for her. She was the crazy underdog who wasn’t afraid of biting the ass of its owner. “Are you offering me what I think you’re offering?” He tipped his chin down. “Because I won’t be gentle.” “I don’t want you to be gentle.” I walked across the kitchen to fix myself some breakfast, my tone bored. “I want you to be badass, and cut the jealous tantrums. You act like a chick.” As I opened the fridge and shoved my head in, in search of something interesting to eat, I smiled to myself. I’d learned Troy, knew that he would take the bait. The harder I fought back every time he messed with me, the more he liked me. I bet if I set his penthouse on fire, he would laugh like it was all a big, fat joke. “Hell, wifey, I’m game. Let’s play.” And with that, I knew there would be no more mistresses in the immediate future. For the first time since we got together, I’d won. And victory never felt so sweet.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Moving my mouth by her ear, I whisper, “Showtime, wifey.

Roll-over Carthage and Babylon! With the auspicious embarrassment that only great nations can achieve, America’s twenty-first century that began with that Holy Trinity of turdsqueak popcorn farts; George W. Bush, Barack Hussein Obama and Donald Trump, is now being awarded an involuntary colonoscopy without an anesthesia by Comatose Joe Biden and his assistant, Willie Brown’s second or third string wifey, Camilla Harris.

The doctors had to place a rod in Black's leg. His fibula had been shattered. Ironically, it was the same one that had fractured before when Chris had riddled his car with bullets. He knew that his leg would never be the same, but he was grateful that he was still alive.

Black was thinking to himself that this bitch had to be crazy to deal with somebody like him. Why would she want to be involved with him? She'd just been shot at. "It's

Q had counted millions of dollars with Fresh. There was no way that he could be broke. "I

Black had been in Shamari's position before—in jail, calling to find out the whereabouts of his woman.

She was going to send another girl to see Thomas but Nikki didn't need to know that. "I'm

Black knew that a girl like Jada was not going to stop living. She was going to have fun and see men. Hell, she was doing that even when Shamari was out. "You

When Anna poured his glass, Q made sure he stared at her ass because he knew this would piss Diego off. He couldn't care less about pissing Diego off. Diego

Rico grinned. He recognized Q but he was a broken man.

Jada didn't want to continue with Big Papa. He was a nice guy, and he didn't deserve to keep getting used by her. Big

Jada could see this was going nowhere, and there was no use in trying to persuade him to let the beef go.

Eli had come by to get his things and even though TeTe had chopped his finger off, he still wanted to be with her. He didn't want to give up his life of luxury.

Black was thankful for the man's help, but there was no doubt in this mind, that this great blue-blooded, American hero would let the cops know about the marijuana.

When Black limped down into the basement, he found L and Avant holding hands, watching TV. Avant was wearing a hot-pink thong.

Black still hadn't decided if he was going to kill Avant or not, but in a sick kind of way, and even though he wasn't down with homosexuality, he was glad Avant was getting torture fucked by L. Black

Tears cascaded down the big man's face and Black felt sorry for him, but honestly he didn't give a damn about what L's sexuality was. He knew L was a killer and that was all he cared about. Black

Fresh had total control of her body but her loyalty was with Shamari.

What Fresh was saying was true, but Black didn't know that Fresh actually knew the prices for coke in Atlanta. He

Black knew that L was getting out of hand, and that he needed to get rid of L. He didn't want to kill him, he liked L, but L was becoming too reckless. "Look,

He liked her but it was clear to him that she liked him more than he liked her at this point. But he did think Jada was the kind of woman he could see himself with, but right now, he didn't feel that way. "I

Q's longstanding relationship with them allowed him to ask them to buy more than they usually would. He'd told them that he needed to move the product fast and since he'd probably made each of the men rich, they agreed to help out.

Black had murdered his brother and he'd thought that he would get a chance to avenge his brother's death but instead Black now had the upper hand. "Untie

Mike was still bowing to her looking like a goddamned idiot. Happy that she'd spared him.

That goddamned Diego had reneged on the deal and on top of that, he'd sent him bad dope. Not only had Diego murdered his friend, but Q had lost a shit load of money. Starr

A sigh of relief escaped my lips. For a second, I thought it was MiMi on some fatal attraction type shit. I would have hated to have to kill my ex-lover for fucking with wifey. I was just glad I didn't have to do it.

Lala would have never allowed our home to look this disgusting and that was why she was wifey and Ashley was just a thot.

Here’s a little secret. He does care about you, but he cares about you for himself. He’s keeping you safe on a shelf. I bet he interferes with any guy who might show you some attention while he goes out with every pair of perky tits that steps in his path. He may even marry you someday because I’m guessing you and your cardigans are his parents’ wet dream, the perfect ideal of wifey material, but he will own you, D’Arcy. Trust me on this. I know what I’m talking about. Is that what you want? Do you even know what you want?

? “What’s up, wifey?” Mina said, grabbing her by the cheeks, then smacking her ass. Seema always felt better about being the child of immigrants when she hung out with Mina, her first-year roommate. The girl had no plans before, during, or after Michigan. She worked in graphic web design, which these days was simply a catchall category for anything not involving finance or escorting. Then again, her parents were so rich she didn’t even have to grow up Asian.

Changing the literary world. One book at a time

Mmm, mmmm, nooooo niggggggaaa, that's not a good thing to say! Just be quiet, and don't use the terminology, my girl, wifey, lady, side chick, or baby mama no more that's not a good look, trust me!" Gabe said shaking his head back and forth.