A Quote by Julie Burchill
In my third husband I had discovered a blissfully laid-back type who thought it nothing less than hilarious when I misread the map on the way to Wales, so it took us an extra three hours, or when I was sick in a plastic carrier bag during much of the drive back from Devon - a bag that turned out to have a hole in it.
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I loved couriers. You had this transfer of physical information happening throughout the city and the world. Someone picking up the package, putting it in a bag, going somewhere, taking it out of the bag, giving it to someone else. I thought that was so cool. I wanted to map it, to see that flow on a big screen.
A Birkin bag is a very good rain hat; just put everything else in a plastic bag.
We are past the stage in our relations that you come to Washington with an empty goody bag and then you go back with a bag filled with stuff.
I can write anywhere. I made up the names of the characters on a sick bag while I was on an airplane. I told this to a group of kids and a boy said, "Ah, no, that's disgusting." And I said, "Well, I hadn't used the sick bag."
I would run into the corner store, the bodega, and just grab a paper bag or buy juice - anything just to get a paper bag. And I'd write the words on the paper bag and stuff these ideas in my pocket until I got back. Then I would transfer them into the notebook.
Before we make love my husband takes a pain killer.
I blame my mother for my poor sex life. All she told me was, 'the man goes on top and the woman underneath'. For three years my husband and I slept on bunk beds.
I'm a double bagger. Not only does my husband put a bag over my face when we're making love, but he also puts a bag over his head in case mine falls off.
It's so long since I've had sex, I've forgotten who ties up whom.
My best birth control now is to leave the lights on.
It's much easier to create a high-end bag than a mass market bag that everyone can afford.
She had six months at most left to live. She had cancer, she hissed. A filthy growth eating her insides away. There was an operation, she'd been told. They took half your stomach out and fitted you up with a plastic bag. Better a semicolon than a full stop, some might say.
I have made decisions that turned out to be wrong, and went back and did it another way, and still took less time than many who procrastinated over the original decision. Your brain is capable of handling 140, 000 million bits of information in one second, and if you take hours or days or weeks to reach a vital decision, you are short-circuiting your most valuable property.
I woke up, a bag of bones. Literally. They had gathered up my bones and put them in a bag and thrown the bag into a river.
Being sick allows you to check out of life. Getting well again means you have to check back in. It is absolutely crucial that you feel ready to check back into life because you feel as though something has changed from the time before you were sick. Whatever it was that made you feel insecure, less than, or pressured to live in a way that was uncomfortable to you has to change before you want to go back there and start over.
The first scene I ever appeared in, it was the first scene I ever shot [during my] first day on set. I walk up to my mom with a plastic bag over my head and she says that her clothes better not be on the floor, not that a plastic bag is not a safety hazard or anything. I think it's a really cute scene and also just a very vivid memory.
The rattle of plastic keys reminds me of a squadron of butterflies failing to fight their way out of a paper bag.
I treated myself to a £700 Chloe bag after one of my first acting jobs. Then my friends pointed out that, for the same money, I could buy a flight to India. So I took it back.
Oh- and grab the plastic bag over by my suitcase." I slug down the last of the coffee and get up. The bag contains panty hose. I put them on her desk. "They're for you." "You want me to look homeless, desperate, but also kind of fabulous?
When I was younger, I'd always forget stuff. I think there was probably 4-5 times where we'd drive 30 minutes to a town for the baseball tournament, and all of a sudden, I'd get to the field and look in my bag, and I didn't have my cleats. So my dad had to race all the way home to get my cleats and get back before the game started so I could play.
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