A Quote by Devon Monk

I wouldn’t want you to get in the shower and then pass out or some such. How about if I help you get out of your clothes? I’m an expert in platonic undressings.” He gave me that wicked smile. “Give it a rest. I’m not going to strip naked in front of you, and I’d rather pee in private.” “Half the injuries in a home happen in the bathroom. What kind of friend would I be to let you face that kind of danger alone? I mean, sure, you walked out of death, but this is a shower.” “Shame. Get out of my bathroom.
Delicate fabrics should not be ironed. But if you don't have a steamer, next time you take a hot shower hang the item in the bathroom with you. The steam from the shower will help get the creases out.
I'm not at the point where I'd feel safe in a house alone. I would be really scared. I'm the kind of person that when I get up to go use the bathroom I have this big long hallway, and I just know someone's going to jump out and get me.
What are we going to do about the injuries to our country still going on right in front of our eyes? It gets me out of bed in the morning. It makes me mad enough to get my blood up and want to get out there with [Mark] Twain and get it said and that is why I still hit the road and go out on the stage and keep working at staying alive.
I think once you're in the friend zone, I'm not sure how you get out. Well, actually, I do know how you get out. You act like the friend back. That's how you get out.
I called my grandmother yesterday. She picks up the phone, 'Oh hello, dear, hold on a second, I just stepped out of the shower. Let me go put some clothes on.' I said, 'Hey Grandma, don't ever tell me you're naked again. Go put a lot of clothes on. Then put some more clothes on. I'm going to sit here and drink and try to forget you naked in my head.' I'll never eat raisins again.
I usually shower the night before, lay out all my clothes on the floor, so then I just fall into them, clean my teeth, stumble out the door, get into my car and go wherever it is that we're shooting. You have breakfast on set.
I get out of bed, brush my teeth, wash my face, put on moisturiser, put on clothes, and leave. Four minutes. I like to shower at night so I can roll out of bed.
She was standing in the airport of Copenhagen, staring at a doorway, trying to figure out if it was (a) a bathroom and (b) what kind of bathroom it was. The door merely said H. Was she an H? Was H "hers"? It could just as easily be "his". Or "Helicopter Room: Not a Bathroom at All
If you feel something artistic, you need to get it out of you, do it. You gotta get out and play in front of people. You can't stay in the bedroom, get out sooner rather than later. Use your gut instinct.
When I was on the swim team as a kid, I used to hide out from my coach by going into the bathroom and hiding out in one of the stalls. And I would literally wrap myself in toilet paper so as not to get hypothermia.
I always look at the bathroom. If you have a nice bathroom in the hotel, then it's a nice hotel. It's all about the shower and the bathroom.
Mama, Mama, help me get home I'm out in the woods, I am out on my own. I found me a werewolf, a nasty old mutt It showed me its teeth and went straight for my gut. Mama, Mama, help me get home I'm out in the woods, I am out on my own. I was stopped by a vampire, a rotting old wreck It showed me its teeth and went straight for my neck. Mama, Mama, put me to bed I won't make it home, I'm already half-dead. I met an Invalid, and fell for his art He showed me his smile, and went straight for my heart. -From "A Child's Walk Home," Nursery Rhymes and Folk Tales
We are told No, you're unimportant, you're peripheral - get a degree, get a job, get a this, get that, and then you're a player. You don't even want to play that game. You want to reclaim your mind and get it out of the hands of the cultural engineers who want to turn you into a half-baked moron consuming all this trash that's being manufactured out of the bones of a dying world.
I'm always the kind of friend or girlfriend who suggests, when there's some cataclysmic problem in the relationship, I'm like, "Well, maybe we can come up with a creative activity that will help us out." I'm like, "Let's get out the pens! Draw a picture of how much you hate me!"
If you can delude yourself by believing that there is some kind of Santa Claus out there who is going to bail you out in the end, then it will help you get through. Even if you are proven wrong in the end, you would have had a better life than a non-believer.
I kind of quit surfing when I got out of high school, but then a few years ago I started to take it up again. I'm not an expert by any means, but it's so wonderful to get out in the ocean and get a different perspective on things.
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