#Booki quotes

[book-a-bilia]

"The great thing about having a morally questionable bestfriend is that they didn't question you when you did morally questionable things."

Man I love Josh and Alex's friendship

[itzr4v3n]

Irratino: STORY TIME. He was finally able to retreat to the park to read his dirty novels.

Gainsboro:

Gainsboro: Yeah about earthworms

[bookwormscififan]

A Sleepy Ride

Read on AO3!

A/N: After writing the sleepy Mare fic, I had an idea that Mad takes control one night to give Mare a show.

Warnings: smut.

--

Mad slipped his bookmark into his book as Mare came into the room, a frown on his face and hair a mess. Setting his book on the side table, Mad crawled into the middle of the bed, watching as Mare undressed and moved slowly toward him.

“Mare?” Mad tilted his head to the side, eyes wide as he stuck out his bottom lip in a pout he knew Mare liked. “Are you alright?” He sat back on his heels as Mare moved to stand in front of him, hands tucked between his legs and Mare’s shirt falling off one shoulder.

“I’m just tired, dear heart,” Mare replied, climbing onto the bed and pulling Mad into a kiss, deepening it with a soft chuckle before pulling away. “It’s terrible, really. You look so delicious, and I can barely hold myself up to treat you for your sight.”

Mad swallowed thickly, fingers playing with the bedsheets under him as he worked up his courage. There had been a reason behind choosing this specific shirt to wear to bed, of course, and Mad bit his bottom lip before lifting his eyes to meet Mare’s, dark and exhausted. Mare had helped him so many times when he was exhausted, it shouldn’t be too difficult to help Mare, right?

“Maybe I could,” Mad began, pausing to clear his throat, face flushing red. “Maybe I could give you a little show? You wouldn’t have to do anything, just let me take over?” He scratched nervously at the back of his neck as he waited for Mare to process his words, squeaking when Mare pulled him back in for another kiss.

“God, I love you,” Mare breathed against Mad’s lips, hand cupping the back of his head to kiss him again before moving away. “How do you want me? And how is this show going to work?” There was still exhaustion in his eyes, but Mad could see the heat behind them, the way Mare was very interested in what Mad had planned.

“Could you, um, lay on your back?” He said, chewing on the end of his thumb as he shuffled across the covers. “Hands-hands behind your head,” he continued after Mare followed the first request, feeling his cheeks grow hotter at how easily Mare was following his orders.

“I’ll tell you if I don’t like something,” Mare said quietly, sensing Mad’s nervous hesitation and offering him a smile. “I promise,” he added when Mad looked at him uncertainly. His smile widened when Mad smiled back, taking his hand away from his mouth to trail down Mare’s stomach, watching the muscles shift under his touch.

Crawling around the bed to sit beside Mare’s hip, Mad dipped his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, slowly sliding them off and chuckling when Mare kicked them off the rest of the way. Pushing his nerves aside, Mad wrapped his fingers around Mare’s cock, slowly pumping his hand until Mare was fully hard, then he swung his leg over Mare to sit on his waist.

“Are you… not wearing anything under that shirt?” Mare asked, feeling nothing but skin against his lower stomach. He watched as Mad nodded imperceptibly, reaching under the pillow for the lube before lifting the hem of his shirt to expose himself. “That’s so hot,” Mare breathed, gripping his hair with his own hands to avoid touching Mad.

“You-you can touch,” Mad whispered, reaching behind himself to coat Mare’s cock with lube, lining up and slowly sinking down onto it, both letting out a low groan at the feeling. “You just can’t-can’t take over,” he continued as he leaned back, bracing a hand on Mare’s thigh to arch his back perfectly.

Mare’s hands immediately snapped to Mad’s hips, thumbs rubbing circles into his skin before a hand slid up to push the shirt out of the way, watching as Mad rolled his hips. Mad squeezed Mare’s thigh, lifting his free hand to hold Mare’s wrist, keeping the shirt pushed up as he made eye contact.

“God, Mad,” Mare moaned, gripping Mad’s hip tighter as Mad began to move, rolling his upper half to give Mare a proper show, bottom lip caught between his teeth and eyes rolling back as Mare’s cock brushed against every perfect spot in him.

“Mare…” Mad exaggerated his moans slightly, seeing how the sounds made Mare buck his hips to meet Mad’s. “You fill me so well, I love having you in me more than anything in the world. You hit every spot inside me that make me see stars.” He furrowed his brow as he closed his eyes, letting go of Mare’s wrist to tug his shirt off, feeling too warm suddenly.

Mare took the opportunity to move his hand back down to Mad’s hip, moving further to squeeze at his thigh before grasping his cock, moving in time with Mad’s movements and making Mad moan louder. Mad licked at his bottom lip, swollen from how he’d been biting it, struggling to keep his movements fluid as the pleasure got too much.

He slid a hand up his body to squeeze his own chest, pinching his nipple and looking through his lashes at Mare, seeing how he was watching the show hungrily. Moving his stabilising hand from Mare’s thigh to the centre of his stomach, Mad curled forward slightly and continued to move his hips, hitting a different angle and gasping as he came, fingers grasping at Mare’s stomach as he rode out his high.

 Mad’s voice cracked when, a few moments later, Mare’s grip on his hip turned almost bruising, holding him down as he came too, filling Mad with his mouth open in a silent scream. He rolled his hips a few more times before carefully pulling Mad off him, letting him collapse on top of him as he panted.

After taking a few minutes to catch his breath, Mad carefully climbed out of bed, hissing at the slight tinge of pain in his hip as he limped to the bathroom. He cleaned himself off, then wet a towel and brought it to the bed, cleaning Mare off and tossing the towel aside.

Climbing into the bed, Mad smiled as Mare curled up into his side, arms wrapping around Mad’s shoulders to hold him close. Mad pulled the blankets out from under them, tucking them in before pressing a kiss to Mare’s head.

“I love you, piano man,” he whispered, giggling when Mare hummed and nuzzled closer, exhaustion taking back control over his bliss.

-------------------

@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch @dungeon-dragons-dragons

[emecca5]

Mysteries of Thorn Manor by Margaret Rogerson- author Q&A

Hey all! I’ve been absolutely blessed to not only receive an ARC of mysteries of thorn Manor but to also have the chance to interview the author! The book was AMAZING! I’m so happy Margaret wrote another book!! Hopefully there’s more to come in this universe! Title: Mysteries of Thorn Manor Author: Margaret Rogerson Publisher: Simon & Schuster Release Date: January 17, 2023 Genre(s):…

[bookishtheaterlover7]

The Universe strikes again 😍🫶

Fyodor Dostoyevsky // Alanis Morissette

[edsonjnovaes]

Bookie: Charlie Sheen interpreta a si mesmo?!?

A imagem do bon vivant despreocupado que adora jogos de azar, uísque e charutos se sobrepunha à personalidade do astro na vida real. terra – 19 nov 2023 Sitcom foi incialmente estrelada por Charlie Sheen, Jon Cryer e Angus T. Jones. Warner Bros. Television A série Two and a Half Men está atualmente disponível no catálogo do HBO Max. No ar entre 2003 e 2015, a produção americana é uma criação de…

[j-books17]

✨REZENSION ✨

Welcome to Cosy Island 🍁🧡

Autumn & Sam 🧡

Ein absolut wundervolles Wohlfühlbuch. Der cozy-vibe ist von Anfang an auf mich über gegangen und ich habe jede Seite geliebt und genossen. ❤️‍🩹

Ich habe mich in Autumn, sowie Sam, Claire, Grace, aber auch die ganzen anderen, super hineinversetzen können. Ich habe die Atmosphäre im ganzen Buch geliebt und auch stellenweise super Gänsehaut gehabt 🥹

Am liebsten wäre ich gern ins Buch reingekrochen um selbst auf Cosy Island sein zu dürfen 🥰

Die Vorfreude auf die weiteren Teile und die Geschichten der anderen ist definitiv absolut da und ich freue mich schon sehr darauf, bald wieder nach Cosy Island abtauchen zu dürfen 🧡

[theysharethat28]

🫶🏼🍂

[bookishtheaterlover7]

Ditto 🫣

“it's up to you” please don't stress me out like this 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[j-august]

Over every auction house doorway should be placed the legend Buyer, Beware. You can lose your redundancy in the salerooms as surely as you can lose it in the bookies.

Louise Welsh, The Cutting Room

[blkgrlsread2]

“You can be terrifying sometimes,” I said with mock horror.

“I know,” she said with a sunny smile. “All the best women are.”

-- Ursa Dax, Alien Orc For Christmas

[ali-stegert]

Rediscovering Delight in Books

All I wanted for Christmas this year was to recover the ability to read for pleasure, and I found it in Iceland... #jolabokaflod #recoveringbookslumpist

All I wanted for Christmas this year was time the ability to read for pleasure (again), and I found it in Iceland… The loss of leisurely reading is, paradoxically, an occupational hazard of professional writing. When books are the tools of one’s trade, it becomes difficult to open them without engaging the ‘work-side’ of the brain. At least it is for me. Even with picture books and whimsical…

[bookishtheaterlover7]

Bro don't call me out 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

[j-books17]

✨ REZENSION ✨

"Glaube mir, jedes Leben folgt einem Plan. Auch wenn wir oftmals erst hinterher erkennen, welches Ereignis zu welcher weiteren Station geführt hat." 💜

Danke an @anne.jonathan.autorin und @piperverlag.digital für das Rezensionsexemplar 💜

Zuallererst muss ich sagen: HUCH! 😂

In diesem Buch sind einfach so viele Zufälle gewesen, was mein Leben/Umfeld angeht, ich bin fasziniert. Immer wieder kam etwas neues - Namen, Gedanken, Wörter die wenige benutzen.. 😂

Ich habe dieses Buch wirklich sehr gemocht. 💜

Anfangs war ich noch ziemlich skeptisch, da es in der Erzählperspektive geschrieben ist, was ich eigentlich garnicht mag, und wegen meinem eigenen Namen.. aber es lies sich so super und flüssig lesen, ich mochte den Schreibstil wirklich gern. Auch die Story mochte ich sehr. Der Fokus des Romans ist eher auf die Entwicklung der Protagonisten ausgerichtet, weniger auf die Liebesgeschichte zwischen den beiden. Was mich persönlich überhaupt nicht gestört hat! Ich habe wirklich mitgefiebert, wie sie sich entwickeln und wo ihre Selbstfindungsreise hingehen wird. Und das Ende!!! Ich habe wirklich Tränen in den Augen gehabt! 🥹

Es werden super wichtige Themen angesprochen und wie ich finde auch sehr gut rüber gebracht. (Triggerwarnung beachten!)

Die positiven als auch die negativen Seiten der Ballettbranche, Menschen mit Einschränkungen, Mentale Gesundheit, Freundschaft, Familie, Träume, ... und so viel mehr! 😇

Ein wirklich gelungener Debut-Roman und eine Leseempfehlung von mir! 💜

[thecapricunt1616]

Chapter 2 The Bear & His Honey

Chapter Inspo: Quote - "The only heaven I’d be sent to, is one where I’m alone with you." Summary: (18+ ONLY FIC) Carmy gets heated in the kitchen, makes Winnie lunch, & Meets the famous Sugar. A/N: Heyooo!! I am so proud of myself for like not having writers block and actually continuing a fic I started LOL! I think this one is longer than the last, like 7k characters or smth. I can't make promises abt. when I'll post next, but I can try to make it this week! I hope you're all enjoying so far. Warnings: Swearing, Yelling, smut, alcohol, tad angsty if you can even call it that, and then just overall feminine yearning!! ***As per usual; Reblogs, Likes, Comments, & Constructive Critiques are not only welcomed, but much appreciated! Without further ado, here we go! Woooo!***

𝒞𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒪𝓊𝓉 𝑀𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉!

Chapter 1 Here

__________________________

I followed him in to the screaming, bustling pit that was his kitchen. “BEHIND!- Jesus Christ, Tina, watch it - I said Behind! Should I just drop this, huh Chef?!”  Someone cried out, the intensity of the atmosphere causing my chest to tighten as if clawed hands were achingly squeezing ever so slowly around my lungs. 

 “Gosh” I muttered, trying my best to take everything in, every sense of mind becoming slightly overwhelmed. Carmen briskly showed me to his small office, the insanity of his kitchen not even strumming a nerve for him it seemed. He showed me to a desk covered in too many papers in the corner, before thumbing through them until he found what he was rummaging for. “Ah! Yes. Here we go!! Alright. You look at this” he turned to me, handing it over. 

“With that big-booky-brain of yours, sure you could figure some changes to make the dishes sound extra special ‘mm?” He mused. I glanced over the piece of printer paper, nothing more than a piece of plain white paper adorned with dish names and descriptions of them followed by pricing. 

“Uhh…sure thing. ‘M not that smart, slutty books about muscley guys with wings and mind reading abilities only get you so far…” I said jokingly, my eyebrows furrowing as I my eyes glaze over the intricate ingredients I’d never heard of. 

“Alright, uhhh.. you’re gonna have to go more into detail about what you’re getting up to at the bookstore when I get back” he teased and closed the door to the office behind him as he headed to the kitchen. 

I continued reading over the ingredients, adding an appetizing verb here and there, hoping that was what he was looking for. I lean on my hand, looking over the other papers on the desk. Mostly food shipment orders, different labor receipts, jumping in my seat a bit when I hear a huge crash and what sounds like a bunch of aluminum clattering. 

“FUCK, JESUS! ” Carm yells, his voice booming through the kitchen and it was suddenly silent, as if every single thing stopped. “How many times have I told you guys, do, NOT leave empty FUCKING pans ON THE EDGE OF YOUR GOD DAMN STATION. Everyone look over your FUCKING station, RIGHT THE FUCK NOW - if there is an something that needs to be washed- it goes IN THE SINK. NOW. Move!” 

The only response is a chorus of “Yes Chef!” 

“Marcus get the fuck over here deal with this these fucking sheet pans!” He barks. I swallow the nervous lump in my throat, contemplating if I should just grab my purse and go. My eyes flick to the door when I hear the handle, and Carmen walks back in, his face a bit flushed from his outburst I’d assume. 

“Hey” he said casually and smiled a bit, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He was holding a plate that honestly, looked amazing. “So, not chilli, so sorry, but- we do have Mac salad, and then this fire pork stew type deal, oh, and your onions, and a burger, and a hot dog- feelin frisky today, Winnie?” He puts the plate in front of me with a soft smile. 

All tension I was feeling vanished like sand between my fingers. A smile tugs at the corner of my lips and I look up at him. “And my ketchup?” I asked and he rolled his eyes, taking the ketchup and mustard bottles from his apron and setting them down in front of me. “Sorry, your majesty.” He teased.

I take the ketchup, squeezing a good amount over the top. “I guess… I am feeling frisky” I said, doing the same with the mustard. “Yea? You reading up on more winged muscle man porn while I was out there?” I laughed as I cut up the hot dog and burger on top, a real laugh. Not something someone could usually drag out of me since my brother. But for some reason, Carmen seemed to be very good at it. 

“Ohhh yeah. I was just all spread out here on top of your desk rubbing one out - the yelling you were doing really did it for me. Finished right before you came in.” I teased with a feline smirk, watching as his cheeks heated slightly. “Yeah- sorry about that” he rubs the back of his neck. “Uh- Marcus he just left all these fucking pans and Syd ran right in to them - keep tellen ‘em to put shit where it goes.” He sighed a bit. 

“No, no, no need to be sorry. A book store and a kitchen are 2 very different places to work, just glad everything’s alright” I took a bite, my eyes widening at the amazing flavor. It definitely wasn’t home, but that was okay. It was fucking amazing. I bring my hand up to my mouth to cover it as I speak, unable to wait another second to tell him. 

“That? Is Fuuucking heat dude. Wow.” I said swallowing and immediately going for more. “Really? You are…unbelievable” he chuckles, sitting back with a small smirk on his lips. “No you are unbelievable, Chef, great work. 5 stars on yelp” I giggle and he shakes his head rolling his eyes in amusement. 

“Why thank you, your review is valued” he gets up and leans in. I swear I feel my heart stutter in my chest when his chain brushes my temple as he reaches around me and grabs the menu I had been scribbling notes on for him. I could smell the musk of his cologne, a bit of tobacco from his cigarette, and a tinge of salty sweat from being in such a hot kitchen all morning. It was intoxicating. I wanted to bury my nose in his chest and just inhale, I could get drunk off the scent.  “Sorry” he said softly, sitting back down and looking at the menu. 

My cheeks had to be on fire, and I’m sure if his chain grazed my face again, its icy touch would sizzle at the contact. I swallow the bite I had forgotten about in my mouth when he was so close and look over at him. He was still looking over the menu, eyebrows raised slightly, “mm, like that” he mutters, rubbing his chin in contemplation. 

“Wow, look at what your slutty books taught you, ‘opulence to the core in your mouth’ hmm? What were they describing?” He smirks, his eyes meeting mine. I swear I could burst into flames and be left as nothing but a pile of ashes. I can’t remember a time that I’d been so melted by the attention of a man. 

“Uh-“ I stutter, clearing my throat, trying to rack my now empty brain (other then that pesky vision buried deep, of him rage fucking me over his desk. Sending waves of soaking warmth to my core, so strong I’m more petrified of the vision of me getting up and his chair being wet with my arousal) “Oh, you know…” I trail off with a shrug, my gaze finding my plate again and taking another bite to avoid embarrassing myself any further. 

“Well, I just may have you edit these more often little miss vocabulary” he continues reading over. “I like this, exactly what I wanted. Thank you” he smiled softly, setting the paper down on the desk. Our hands brush, and goosebumps immediately rose everywhere from my shins to my jaw. 

I look over at him, to find him looking right back at me. “This is…like so good” I said to take my mind off the ache growing between my thighs and he grinned. “Glad you like it. Swing by anytime I’ll make one for you, on the house of course. Gotta make sure we treat our official menu editor well” he rested his hands on the top of his curls with locked fingers. His biceps looked much more pronounced this way, the tattoos I hadn’t been able to see on the back of his arms making an appearance. 

He looked as if he was a fucking statue, a Greek god carved from the masterful hands of Myron. He is beautiful. He has such a strong nose, a muscular jaw and neck, god his fucking neck. Those veins, I can imagine when he gets all fired up they protrude powerfully. I trail back up to his nose, god that fucking nose. My core clenches around nothing at the sudden dirty image of messily riding his face comes to the front of my mind, his beautiful blue eyes darkened in lust due to his blown out pupils, his beautiful sexy nose nuzzling my bundle of nerves, my arousal dripping down his neck and chest as he drinks up all he can. Flushed at the Hollywood porno in my mind, I quickly shut it out like slamming a door and my eyes flick to his beautiful blues, a satisfied smirk on his blush pink lips. 

“What?” I questioned, my cheeks growing hotter. “Mm. Nothin’. Enjoying the view or somethin’?” He questioned and I look at my plate. “No- I mean, well” I stuttered, picking up another bite and putting it in my mouth to avoid the confrontation as it had worked for me shortly before. 

He playfully smacks a hand over his heart “wow!” He said earning a giggle from me “here I am, slavin’ over the stove like a damn housewife for you to make your- whatever the hell - and you have the gaul to insult me!! In my own restaurant at that!”  He feigned offense, a real smile adorning his features, eyes crinkled, dimples on proud display. 

“You’re cute! There. Is that what you wanted, Carmen? Your ego stroked a little? Awww, Carm, you’re such a handsome little boy” I laughed, leaning in and pinching his cheek playfully. He rolled his eyes, swatting my hand away with a grin. “So you only go out with guys with wings, that it?” He raised his eyebrows. 

“Wow!! Look at you, big player!” I gently kick his clog with my boot “you askin’ me out?” I asked, my heart picking up speed once more. “No, I just asked if your preference is a buff dude with wings. But since you mention it, sure, I’d love to go out with you. Thanks for the offer” he teased, a pesky smirk on his lips. 

“Wooow!” I drew out and laughed. “Wow!! Big sexy muscle man can’t ask a girl out, hmm? Need to trick her in to asking you?” I took a sip from the water bottle I’d brought in my bag. His cheeks heat, raising his eyebrows he says “well I’m no big sexy muscle man, I’m just ahh…how did you put it?” He asked. 

I leaned in, gently adjusting the pendant of his chain to face front and center again before resting my hand on his chest, palm flat, and feel the heavy thump of his heart when I speak again “a very handsome little boy” I said softly, my eyes flicker to his lips as he gently tugged his bottom one between his teeth. “Mm” he hummed, I felt the vibration under my hand. “That was it. Yeah” he said just above a whisper, his voice richer, deeper, like the dark chocolate cake described on the dessert menu. 

The door flies open and I jump back in my seat, resuming eating as naturally as I could manage. “Bear! There you are, Jesus Christ. Since when do you take breaks? The fuckin’ glassware company left three boxes of cocktail glasses off- three Carm!” A very loud blonde storms in, dropping her large purse in a slump at my feet and kicking it under the desk like I wasn’t even there. 

“Sorry,” she gives me a sympathetic smile “just restaurant shit.” She looks back at him “who did the order?” He asks. “Syd!! I told you, Carmen, you are putting too much on her plate right now! Stop being such a jagoff” she pushes his arm gently “and fucking divide the work!! Fuckin- fuckin’ teach Manny how to order!! I don’t know!” She said exasperated and frustrated. 

“Sugar I’ll call them, I’ll fix it, I fucked up.” He admitted with a sigh and rubs his face. “Yes. You did. And you better fix it. Or else how in the fuck are we gonna do your stupid little house cocktail on family night in three days?!” She asked, holding up 3 fingers and waving them in front of his face as he shook his head. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” He muttered and ran his fingers through his curls. “Sorry should I-“ I grabbed my purse from the back of the chair and motioned to the door “ahh fuck. Ye’ I’m so sorry I-“ he blinks hard, thinking. 

“What time do you get off?” He asks “5:15 usually” I said and got up, my plate of food mostly gone. “Shit…uhh..” he rubs his chin in contemplation. “Can you swing by at like- 10? If not, it's totally fine, we- we can have a drink? If you want..” he offered. I nod, a soft smile gracing my features. “Sure thing, I’m a night owl anyway. See you at ten, Chef, thanks again for lunch, it was great”. But before I leave the office, I lean in and whisper in his ear. 

“Be a good, handsome little boy while I’m gone. No more yelling over dropped trays, mm?” I rub my hand over his bicep giving a gentle squeeze and my eyes flicker to his lips, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows thickly, bright red flushing his cheeks.  “S-see you at ten” he stuttered in reply. I shut the door behind me, giggling quietly to myself as I hear who I now knew as ‘Sugar’ saying “Where’d you meet that pretty thing?”

Read Chapter 3 Here!

[oh2e]

A (long) Collection of TTOI Quotes

He’s as useless as a marzipan dildo

I’m going to have to mop up a hurricane of piss here

He and Hewitt are tight as arse cheeks

‘How fucked am I? On the fuckometre?’ ‘Oh 12’ ‘yeah 12’ ‘out of what?’ ‘50’ ‘oh…. mine was out of 10’

Tiny little dick the size of a bookie’s biro

There’s no time to go home I’ll pass myself on the way back in

I can only cook with what I’m given. You give me Hugh Abbot I’ll give you bangers and mash, you give me Jerry from home office then I can raise it to fucking risotto and scallops

I am king of remembering my own password

‘Shagging your way to the top is it?’ ‘Yes well I’m not Scottish so I’ve got to get in somehow’

How much shit is on the menu and what flavour is it?

‘What do you want Malcolm’ ‘Two bits of tit. Two titties.’

Come the fuck in or fuck the fuck off

“What about just firing him at a wall from a cannon?” “I know we force feed him a mixture of garlic and Dettol in cup a soup” “What about the old red hot poker up the arse?” “I’d like to nail him to a tree through the head and watch lice slowing crawl over his body eating off all the flesh”

“Has security checked this [plant]?” “For little terrorists?”

This is the problem with the public - they’re fucking horrible

Not only was it a shit idea to ruin my holiday, it was a shit idea you stole from the government to ruin my holiday

Ah that’s like smoking dead skin that is

You’re the fucking shittest James Bond ever - you’re David Fucking Niven!

You’re like a sweaty octopus trying to unhook a bra

You take the piss outta [Al] Jolson again and I will remove your iPod from its tiny nano sheath and push it up your cock! Then I’ll plug some speakers up your arse and put it onto shuffle with my fucking fist

I thought you said no one reads these except political obsessives and mad Christians in wheelchairs but loads of people read mine

“I am not the story here” “Well no you kind of are though Malcolm, they spelled your name right and everything”

Come with me before I put your nuts in a book and squeeze them so hard that they come out like pressed fucking flowers

You’re The Ben….Ben Nevis…Bentally Ill…

Tickety fuckity boo

“Anyone seen Jamie?” “Oh don’t tell me he’s gone feral cos he was fucking terrifying when you had him on the leash.”

I’d love to stay and talk to you but I’d rather have type 2 diabetes

Mr Baby New Potato Head

It sucks cock so deep the bell end is wearing your appendix as a little hat

This is an operations room so unless you want your tonsils out by keyhole surgery from this key here, piss off!

Cliff Fucking Lawton! Nice. Was the Cilit Bang man not available?

To a guy who loses it so bad he needs a sat nav to find his own nipples

I’m feeling about as up to date as a Gregorian calendar

“You couldn’t organise a bum rape in a barracks.” “Au contraire”

You’re about as secure as a hymen in a south London comprehensive

Stop fucking blinking or I will take your optic nerve and fucking strangle you with it

Hanging round like a couple of school secretaries in the summer holidays

It’s like a prostate consultant’s waiting room in here

You will be sorry you inflatable cock!

I am going to have your intestines as a skipping rope and your lungs sundried and turned into a fucking waistcoat

Or will Dan Miller pull his scalp off and use it as an oven glove?

Enough of the pleasantries let’s just oil up and get fucking

A towel rail shouldn’t take up a whole wall, that’s not a towel rail it’s a climbing frame.

I’ve got a to-do list here longer than a fucking Leonard Cohan song

More on my plate than a spinster at a wedding

The only other candidate is my left bollock with a fucking smiley face drawn on it

Feels a bit like my head’s made entirely of smoke alarms

Fuck the Is and fist the Ts

May as well ask what I think of skirting boards, I’m sure we need them but I don’t know why

“No no I didn’t say that” “Well you sort of did with your face”

Let me row back a little bit, perhaps all the way back to the boathouse

She’s not bent either in the sense of being corrupt or being gay and by the way that’s an incredibly homophobic headline you massive poof

Omnishambles, from bean to cup you fuck up

I’m on my way to wipe my arse on pictures of Nick Robinson

“And I’m not doing terribly am I?” [Malcolm looking out the opposite window] “I love the way they’ve sandblasted here. It looks so clean.”

No no, don’t get up - I’m not viagra

He’s a fucking knitted scarf, he’s a balaclava.

The only thing John Duggan is doing here is depriving a village somewhere of a twat

You write almost entirely in generic meaningless buzzwords don’t you?

I will tear your fucking skin off, I will wear it to your mother’s birthday party, I will rub your nuts up and down her leg while whistling Bohemian Fucking Rhapsody

She’s behaving like a squirrel in a pedal bin.

Or I’ll have to tear my eyelids off and scrunch them up into fucking earplugs

I’m flypaper for dickheads

I think you’re wrong Malcolm you’re like a sultana in a salad

Sorry I can’t make espresso but I’ve made this so thick and black it’ll be like drinking fucking plimsoles

Well fuck a pot noodle. Sam, prepare my horse. I ride to DoSAC

The only fucking vibe you need to worry about is the one your wife hides in her knicker drawer

See you later and remember my door is always locked

* Tintin’s sexy sister to Ollie

What I really need is to shoot you all in the back of the head FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. but I can’t because it’s illegal.

I reserve this level of anger for when I’m flying Ryanair

As about a strong defence as ‘the fertiliser in my homemade bomb was organic’!

She’s a fart in a frock and we both want her wafted out of here

She’s going to have to fall on her sword, which means that we’re going to have to stick one in the ground, trip her up onto it and get someone jump up and down on her back for ten minutes

She’s going to kick her own head in which’ll be easy because she does yoga

I’m looking for Mr Oliver Reeder? He looks a bit like a Quentin Blake illustration

“Is she fucked?” “Like Caligula’s favourite watermelon.”

Can I bring you a shot glass? And some bleach?

You can’t look a gift corpse in the mouth

“It’s over the fat lady’s singing” “No she’s not, the fat man from the go compare advert is talking”

I’ve got my cock out, it’s covered in breadcrumbs and the fucking pigeons are circling

Have I just stepped through a portal into a sausage machine because this is making mincemeat out of my head

Sit there and ogle me like a page three girl

I’m as busy as a two-twatted hooker

Now I have to step in your shoes but after you’ve shat in them

I don’t just take this fucking job home you know. I take this fucking job home, it ties me to the bed and it fucking fucks me from arsehole to breakfast then it wakes me up in the morning with a cupful of piss flung in my face then slaps me about the chops to make sure I’m awake enough to kick me in the fucking bollocks. This job has taken me in every hole in my fucking body.

Everything is fine I’m like lube at a funeral

If you pull off again I’m going to stick the meter so far down your throat you’ll be able to tell the price of your next shit

You closeted regency homosexual

It’s been a bit like renovating an old, old house. You can take out a sexist beam here, a callous window there, replace the odd homophobic roof tile, but after a while you realise […] the foundations are built on what I can only describe as a solid bed of cunts.

Shit in the couscous