iQuote

Shut it. You don’t get to talk anymore, you don’t get to talk ever again.

Your ass is mine until I say otherwise.  Congratulations.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

I want you to drink this and try really hard to act like you aren’t scary and damaged.

I’m all glue back together now.  I make no apologies for how I chose to repair what you broke.

This might sound random, but wear underwear with pantyhose.  I know it might feel a little bulky, but honestly, it’s a little slutty not to.

Maybe I’m a pig.  Maybe I’m an ass.  Maybe I’m a vermin like everybody says.  But I tell them the truth.  It’s the one thing that I’ve got going for me.  And you don’t get to take that away from me and call it a lesson, sir.

I grew up in a trailer park and I am not above kicking your pampered little Beverly Hills ass.  And I do mean physically kicking your ass.

Holy mother of destruction.

I think you’re charming in that talented, neurotic, overly moussed hair sort of way, good for you.

This is me doing nicely.

I think you’re cocky, arrogant, bossy and pushy.  You also have a God complex.  You never think about anybody but yourself.

Look, I’m drawing a line.  The line is drawn.  There’s a big line.  So, this line, is it imaginary, or do I need to get you a marker?

It’s too early for me to interpret “girl flip-out” into conversation.