Humor Quotes - Page 106

Except, now that I don’t have a car, I can’t really make good on my birthday promise.” Sydney thought about it for several moments. “Well. I’ve got a car.”An hour later, I vowed I’d never make fun of that Mazda again.

A troupe learns to play like we all learn to screw, stumbling and jostling until everything's finally in the right place.

Nothing spices up one's sex life like having a partner.

Anger is like sex urge, once gratified, the inner voice calls you a stinking fool.

Michael Bassey Johnson

In order to butterfly kiss, does it require caterpillar lips?

He stared at me in complete puzzlement, “And while I’m committing incest for you is there anything else you’d like? Maybe a side-order of bestiality?

Candice Raquel Lee

Revenge is a dish best served in something microwaveable

Well, you didn’t think I’d just roll over, did you?”“Actually I was hoping for an on-all-fours sort of thing.

can't even sleep through the night without you and those sun-dried ginger ale complected limbs crocheted into my thighs...

Brandi L. Bates

THE NEXT DAY WAS RAIN-SOAKED and smelled of thick sweet caramel, warm coconut and ginger. A nearby bakery fanned its daily offerings. A lapis lazuli sky was blanketed by gunmetal gray clouds as it wept crocodile tears across the parched Los Angeles landscape.When Ivy was a child and she overheard adults talking about their break-ups, in her young feeble-formed mind, she imagined it in the most literal of essences. She once heard her mother speaking of her break up with an emotionally unavailable man.She said they broke up on 69th Street. Ivy visualized her mother and that man breaking into countless fragments, like a spilled box of jigsaw pieces. And she imagined them shattered in broken shards, being blown down the pavement of 69th Street.For some reason, on the drive home from Marcel’s apartment that next morning, all Ivy could think about was her mother and that faceless man in broken pieces, perhaps some aspects of them still stuck in cracks and crevices of the sidewalk, mistaken as grit.She couldn’t get the image of Marcel having his seizure out of her mind. It left a burning sensation in the center of her chest. An incessant flame torched her lungs, chest, and even the back door of her tongue. Witnessing someone you cared about experiencing a seizure was one of those things that scribed itself indelibly on the canvas of your mind. It was gut-wrenching. Graphic and out-of-body, it was the stuff that post traumatic stress syndrome was made of.

Brandi L. Bates

He didn’t even apologize as he sat up, staring down at her. Washe angry? She guessed not when he began to speak to his erection.“I know. I can’t believe she left us like this either. Cruel wench,isn’t she?”After the long, frightening, horrible day she had, this was notremotely how she expected to end it. And, against her will, shesmiled.“Look. Now she’s laughing at us.”Desperately fighting a bout of laughter, she ordered, “Stoptalking to it.”He shrugged. “Well you won’t talk to him…and he’s feelingawfully lonely. And I think you hurt his feelings.” Then he made itbounce twice in agreement.Talaith covered her face and sighed. What exactly did hermother tell her the seven signs of madness were? Well, a dragontalking to his own shaft had to be one of them.

It wasn’t the first time he’d run for his life. And it most likely wouldnot be the last. In the past few decades, though, he’d mostly run fromangry fathers who’d found him where they felt he should not be. Or he’drun from town guards—sent by angry fathers who’d found him where theyfelt he should not be.

I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him yourself.”She sat up enough to look him in the eye. “I am not talking toyour…your…”“Mighty throbbing manhood?”“Briec.”“That which brings you much delirious pleasure?”“Briec.”“That which makes you whole?”“Stop it, dragon. You’re making me physically ill.” ...“Ow!”“Be nice, woman. I’m not used to this.”She rubbed her ass and glared at him. “Do that again and you’lllose that which you believe makes me whole.

Military Wives—Sacrificing Months of Sex for the Country.

Aditi Mathur Kumar

I'm feeling full of tiny princes, bustling to get out into the world and start plotting against one another.

Christopher Moore

They can’t help it, you know. It happens in the egg,” she reasoned. “As soon as they grow that genitalia, intelligence goes right out the window and we’re left with this thing that just wants to stick it in any hole.

Lying flat against the tile of the kitchen floor listening to someone else have sex is essentially my early twenties in a nutshell.

In order not to make a liar out of Henry or Katherine, one or the other, the committee men think up circumstances in which the match may have been partly consummated, or somewhat consummated, and to do this they have to imagine every disaster and shame that can occur between a man and a woman alone in a room in the dark.

Tied up a lot of women, have you?" He raised one eyebrow, whatever that meant. "A bit odd, are you?" She was being sarcastic, trying to taunt him into a sense of guilt. While perhaps bursting any bubble in herself of misguided, soft-hearted concern for a man with sad eyes and complicated wealth. Though his sexual inclinations were perhaps not the wisest of barbs to do either. He looked down at her, speculative."Difficult to say." He actually answered the question seriously. "Legally? Decidedly. But then British laws on the subject are so guilt-ridden I'm surprised we've propagated as a race." He mad a small, grim smile. "How delightful we're having this conversation. And what is it you like?

It was true. After our divorce, I'd ended up in a slight relationship with my last research assistant, Aurelia Feinstein, age 34-though let me state for the record it was not as hot as it sounded. Making love to Aurelia was like rummaging through a card catalog in a deserted library, searching for one very obscure little red entry on Hungarian poetry. It was dead silent, no one gave me any dierection, and nothing was where it was supposed to be.

Sex is not a wizard, whatever magical-seeming properties it might possess in its better forms. If your friend says to you, "You're being mean, you need to get laid," your problem is not sex. Your problems are that you might be acting like an asshole, and your friends are definitely idiots.

If the love is not madness, then the sex is not insane

A man's love for a woman is not defined by his availability in bed, but by every ingredient he adds to improve the taste of the relationship.

Michael Bassey Johnson

A man grows weary of having no lovers but his fingers.

George R.R. Martin

Well, you finally got me," Helen had whispered to him, tearfully, but Garp had sprawled there, on his back on the wrestling mat, wondering who had gotten whom.

Sleep. It’s like sex. You know it’s good, but you don’t know just how good until you’re not getting any.

Is my coitus whimsically inventive?

Well, I'd have more zing with George Clooney and Harrison Ford in a threesome, but neither of us are going to get that wish.

I don't like doing anything that makes you sweat if you don't come at the end of it.

When I travel, I get lovesick. Well, they call it chlamydia.

That was not sex. That was naked poetry.

Call bitch a bitch , no fucking reasons

Prabuj

What exactly does that expression mean, 'friends with benefits'? Does he provide her with health insurance?

My boyfriend likes to fuck my brains out on our kitchen island. Which tile would you recommend for that?

I had a dream about you last night. I was writing a ‘Sex for dummies-Christians That Secretly What to be Porn Stars- 1st edition.’ And you helped me with the illustrations.

No such private nights of ecstasy or hushed-up drinking and sex orgies ever occurred. They might have occurred if either General Dreedle or General Peckem had once evinced an interest in taking part in orgies with him, but neither ever did, and the colonel was certainly not going to waste his time and energy making love to beautiful women unless there was something in it for him.

It doesn’t matter what you’ve got in your pants if there is nothing in your brain to connect it to.

In my experience, the romance novels written about BDSM have about as much in common with actual BDSM relationships as a child playing with a jump rope.

My sub doesn't pay for me,” he says, pulling me to my feet. “That just doesn't happen.”“But we ordered so much,” I say helpl

I don’t care how old you are, or what background you come from, there are two universal truths. We will always laugh at…gas if it happens at the wrong time, and we are always curious about what goes on in other people’s bedrooms.

Sally laughed. "When you first told me you were interested in Decebel, I honestly thought that there was no way you two would ever work. But man, you are both such freaks, I honestly don't think anyone else could put up with either of you.""Or keep up with us." Jen winked.

My father was a man, and I know the sex pretty well.

Elizabeth Gaskell

The best laid plans may not get you laid the way you planned.

Not that it isn't great to see you. But it's not so great for you. What'd you do wrong? Laugh at his dick?

Margaret Atwood

He found my g-spot,alright, he found it, then made it sing Zippity-Doo-Dah.

All your life you look to America for those home-grown, corn-fed tits that the Yank bitches all sprout when they’re about fourteen – those bulging DDs that you wank about as a kid as you look longingly across the Atlantic, simultaneously repulsed and electrified – and then the greatest tits you’ve ever seen walk straight out of Giffnock (Glasgow, but you knew that, right?) and bounce their sweet way down to you via the Caledonian-sleeper train. I know they say America is finished, but Christ, when the Jock lassies are packing the premium chest meat, you know they aren’t kidding.

Congress should make it so that all sex scenes in all films should be provided with a screaming baby sound track. That should help take away all the fun and may show a major decrease in unwanted pregnancies without having to provide birth control to anyone.

Heather Chapple

We open five minutes ago,” she scolded as he rushed in.“I know, I know.” He pulled his blue vest out from under the counter and put it on, praying that she wouldn’t notice the glitter shower that ensued. “I’m sorry.”“Five minutes ago. And where is my cashier? Watching goats mate on the computer?

Maybe I'm some sort of perverted cartoon-sexual.

Hey, I’ll have you know that with recent 3D imaging, Ichthyosaurus communis is more alive than ever!”“Talk like the Discovery Channel all you want, but a book of fossils and a tub of plaster does not an orgy make.

After the gratifications of brutish appetites are past, the greatest pleasure then is to get rid of that which entertained it.

Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

You poor dear! Imagine having to wear Mark’s trousers! He’s a lovely lad, but I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone. God only knows who’s been in them!

Does getting nailed by a werewolf count as bestiality?

That’s all women need men for? Sperm, a paycheck, and free flights?

My imagination plus Vibrizzio is not only equal to but also greater than a real man. Why should I settle for second best?

Really the only time men and women get along is when women want sex.

What exactly does that expression even mean? An ass that won’t quit? Think about the primary function of an ass—I’d think that’s the sort of thing you might want to quit.

One day she was going to be found dead mid-hump on a polyurethane phallus

Vibrizzio? You named it! Okay, this isn’t even close to healthy.

You're never too old to laugh at stories about love and sex.

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