Fine! He is being passive aggressive with me, and it’s gonna backfire; I’m gonna be active friendly.
You know your husband truly loves you when he calls you, “Money, I’m home!
For me to forgive my ex, he would have to sign a marriage contract with his tears and seal it with his blood.
He aimed at the lawyer’s heart but missed it. It was a mistrial.
An eye for an eye will only make the world bright. Sorry, Mahatma. This is the absolute and only true form of justice.
Love and Hate: both are four-lettered and both involve passion. And sometimes when love turns into hate, passion grows murderous.
Writing is a form of art. Do not use New Times Roman or Arial because it’s boring and hackneyed.
Hate lawyers all you want. Unlike you, we’ll never be replaced with robots. Case closed!
Gentleman: An imaginary creature found in Jane Austen novels.
I suggest he starts introducing himself as “Lessman”; he is classless, tactless, and mannerless.
For a control freak, love and the desire to control others are synonymous. Once they lose control over the object of their desire, hostility takes over in full force.
I’d represent “Love” when it sued hypocritical writers for abuse.
Because of the green-eyed one, I see red and that makes me blue.
I tend to throw tantrums a lot. Wear a helmet in my presence.
Pent up anger brews into hate, which subsequently becomes a juicy revenge.
I love my ex so much I printed out all his pictures. After all, I need him for target practice. And I just love customised toilet paper and doormats. My only regret is that those items don’t bear his autograph.
He was a serial dater, and she was a serial killer. Justice brought them together.
He said he loves her more because she makes him smile. Fine! I’ll give him the Glasgow smile. Beat that, bitch!
Your kisses are like miracle fruit that sweetens my life without ruining my diet.
When I pass the bar, you’ll be barred from bars but put behind them.
On the stand, I asked the witness, “What’s your occupation?”“Make-up artist.”“Objection!” I replied, “Lack of foundation.
When I lose control, I lose my cool and I pass the point of no RTN.
Let’s play Russian roulette. If you win, I give you a Colombian necktie.
That stranger handed me a letter written in my beloved’s tears. I opened it, and the letters faded away just like his love for me.