I would never say snog. I would say osculate.” She looks at me as if to say: why do you exist?
I would never say snog. I would say osculate.” She looks at me as if to say: why do you exist?
I bought a packet of Trojan® Ultra Pleasure Extra Sensitive condoms: ‘No. 1 in AMERICA’. They smell nothing like a positive first sexual experience.
She whispers in my ear: ‘”Tell me that you wan’ fuck me hard, make me sweat.” In the excitement, she misses out a word. “I want to fuck you so hard that your body drips with sweat,” I say, grammatically.
For my last birthday, Dad bought me a pocket-sized Collins English Dictionary. It would only fit in a pocket that had been specially designed.
Are we making a bomb?” “This is a trust exercise, like in drama,” she says. “Are we making a bomb as a trust exercise?
My mother tells me I do not chew my food enough; she says I am making it harder for my body to get the essential nutrients it needs. If she were here, I would remind her that I am eating a blueberry Pop-Tart.
I am one of those servants – butlers usually – who respectfully points out when their master is about to do something stupid: “You should probably only burn the document once the blackmail has been completed, m’ lady.
Depression comes in bouts. Like boxing. Dad is in the blue corner.
Anger does not come easy to me. It is something I have to encourage, like a greyhound in second place.
Problems are like top trumps. I have a pretty good card: Adulterous Mum. But Jordana’s is still better: Tumour Mother.
He had a bad feeling that there was literally no one he could think of who wasn’t in some very significant way a let-down.