Saddle up. Lock and load.
Fill your hand, you son of a bitch!
NO TOUCHING!!! x
Excuse me for getting so personal, Mrs. Rosen.
Any of you homos touch me, and I’ll kill you
No, no, NO! No. You… you… complete me.
Try not to over-think things, okay?
When’s the last time you said Wahoo?
Fuck you, I’m eating.
I wouldn’t care how hungry I got. I know I wouldn’t eat one of those camp dogs.
I am in a dress, I have gel in my hair, I haven’t slept all night, I’m starved, and I’m armed! Don’t mess with me!
Stop, or my Mom will shoot!
“Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, honey.”
“I was such an awful mother… how’d you like to have Joan Crawford for a mother? Or Lana Turner?”
“These are the options? You or Lana or Joan?”
You really would have been something, Mother.
Oh, Mother says the sun’s coming up in twenty minutes.
On the first light of the fifth day, at dawn, look to the east.
Second star to the right, and straight on until morning.
One little star, all alone in the sky, do you ever get lonely as the twilight drifts by? One little star, in the darkening blue, do you long for another, just the way that I do?
Over the years, I came to know a great many grownups. My opinion of them never improved. In time, I stopped showing my drawing, and never again mentioned boa constrictors, elephants, or stars - instead, I would talk about golf, money, politics, and neckties, and everyone was pleased to have met such a sensible man.