comedy-humor

I just looked at the calendar and realized- my days are numbered

I took a couple steps away from him and stopped in front of a framed colored poster of Vivien Leigh and Clark Gable from the movie Gone with the Wind. I studied the pair, Gable with his mysterious mustache and Leigh in her red ball gown. I__ become a fan of the classic, partially because of my mother__ suggestion that I looked a lot like a younger Vivien Leigh, with my dark wavy hair and sea green eyes. And as usual, I__ believed her for a little while.

My life was full of drama, with the highs and lows of Tyler__ daily mood swings and my private innuendos with Vandenberg. There__ never been a movie made that could permanently shift my mood away from my disappointment with myself.

I got home a little after seven, but didn__ feel hungry. Instead, I crawled into my pajamas and pulled out my Jimmy Stewart movie It__ a Wonderful Life. I fixed myself a cup of herbal tea and settled in for the night. Normally, I__ save such a classic movie for the holidays, when I tended to feel sorry for myself, but today__ need felt urgent. If Jimmy was able to accept that he had a wonderful life, maybe I could, too.

Time heals all wounds. Unless they're infected. Like gangrene. That shit'll kill you.

My mother had tried to fool me into thinking I was a natural beauty, and I__ believed her for a little while, that is, until I moved to the land of beautiful people.

If you drink anymore, you're going to be positively flammable.

Answering the question 'How would you like to smell?' by saying 'I'd rather I didn't' is also no longer acceptable. It's not playing the game. Men are expected to put some cash into the cosmetic pot too - it's seen as almost un-feminist not to. What a uniquely capitalist response to that gender inequality: women have been forced by convention for generations - millennia - to spend money on expensive clothes and agonising shoes, to daub themselves with reality-concealing slap, to smell expensively inhuman, to self-mutilate in pursuit of eternal youth; and this, quite rightly, has come to be deemed unfair. But how do we end this hell? We make men do it too. Well done everyone.

This,_ Alaric explained to Sarah in what he thought was a kindly voice, __sn__ love you__e feeling. Only dopamine. Because Felix isn__ like anyone else you know. Being a creature of the night, he__ new and exciting and activates a neurotransmitter in your brain that releases feelings of euphoria when you__e around him_especially because you know you can never actually be together, and he seems complicated, and perhaps even sensitive and vulnerable at times. But I can assure you: he__ anything but.___ow dare you?_ Sarah demanded hotly. __t isn__ dopa_whatever! It__ love! Love!

I think the reason I choose the comic approach so often is because it's harder, therefore affording me the opportunity to show off.

If you call a gypsy a vagabond, I think you do him wrong,For he never goes a-travelling but he takes his home along.And the only reason a road is good, as every wanderer knows,Is just because of the homes, the homes, the homes to which it goes.

A stitch in time saves uncontrollable blood loss

If you ordered up a whore here, you'd probably get a theater major doing Joan Crawford as Sadie Thompson. I wonder what would happen if I ordered up a Hershey bar?" His eyes lit up for a moment. "I wonder what would happen if I ordered up a whore and a Hershey bar?