A Quote by Jeaniene Frost

Guess the honeymoon is over!" Denise muttered once we are outside. "Next I suppose I'll be sleeping in the wet spot. — © Jeaniene Frost
Guess the honeymoon is over!" Denise muttered once we are outside. "Next I suppose I'll be sleeping in the wet spot.
Damn it's a shame you're the mighty queen of vials, With a wide-eyed look and a rotten-toothed smile. Used to walk with a swagger, now you simply stagger From one spot on, to the next spot on, to the next spot on, to the next.
I suppose it's part of being a good politician to be able to spot the most important men in any group without outside assistance.
And the headbonny ash that sits over the burn. What would the world be, once bereft Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left, O Let them be left, wildness and wet: Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
Fine!" muttered Mogget. "Wet, cold, and full of holes. Another fun day on the river.
Once she was gone, I knelt next to Annabeth and felt her forehead. She was still burning up. "You're cute when you're worried," she muttered. "Your eyebrows get all scrunched together." "You are not going to die while I owe you a favor," I said. "Why did you take that knife?" "You would've done the same for me." It was true. I guess we both knew it. Still, I felt like somebody was poking my heart with a cold metal rod.
I go on the road all the time, but I'm only performing for two hours a night, and then I'll do a meet-and-greet, and then I'll get a bite to eat, get drunk, pass out, wake up the next day, sleeping the next day, sleeping off the hangover, and then I'm in the next city.
I like to say that I was raised by sitcoms, and that my personality is comprised of different characters. Darlene from Roseanne, Denise from The Cosby Show, Uncle Jesse from Full House, a little Jessie from Saved By The Bell - but not the episode where she was addicted to sleeping pills.
A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone, and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon, and darkness crept over the land from the east.
Not that I was incapable of friendship. 'Don't be shy', the teachers coaxed. I was not shy, only extremely choosy. And Denise shone like a diamond. If you had to ask me to define paradise, I would have said a desert island which Denise could visit, on a boat.
I took a drink. "I guess it's different for you.""Hmm?" "I bet you have girls hanging all over you. Dozens would probably kill to be in my spot and here I am, allergic to your bread.
I wanted to write about this tropical honeymoon in part because I had the most drastically terrible honeymoon.
My real mom died when I was born—hemorrhaged to death while giving birth to me, which has never been one of my favorite memories—and Dad married Denise before I’d turned a year. Without even asking my opinion on the matter. Denise and I never really clicked.
My parents broke many rules, so I guess thinking 'outside the box' has been slowly but surely developing in my family - one generation to the next.
The trouble is, walking in Venice becomes compulsive once you start. Just over the next bridge, you say, and then the next one beckons.
My dad's a photographer. So I suppose he named me Ansel just in case I would take over the family business. I guess I failed him.
We are sitting on our honeymoon bed in the honeymoon suite. We are in a state of honeymoon, in our honey month. These words are so sweet: honey, moon. This bed is so big, we could live on it. We have been happily marooned -- honey marooned -- on this bed for days.
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