Kristen Johnson

“Those cultists are honestly freaking me out a little bit. Just the fact that they’re building freaking statues of me is already bad enough, but having some weird rule making all of the cultists wear headphones that look similar to mine all the time to mimic me?”
― Shane Purdy, The Awakening

“Winkie? Flesh flute? Tallywhacker? Baby maker? Quiver bone? Joystick? Fun stick? Lap rocket? Love muscle? Wedding tackle? One-eyed wonder weasel? Helmet head? Wang? Trouser snake? Giggle stick? Schlong? Mushroom head? Love rod? Pecker? Thundersw—”
“Enough!” Lucian barked, and when Bricker paused and glanced to him questioningly, he said, “I do not know what alarms me more, that you have so many names for cock or what it means in regard to how much time you spend thinking about cock.”
― Lynsay Sands, The Immortal Who Loved Me

“Relax,” Lucian said dryly. “Bricker will not leave without me. The SUV is—”
“What?” Basil asked when his brother paused with his arm half raised, shock crossing his features.
“The little shit just drove away without me,” Lucian said with amazement.”
― Lynsay Sands, The Immortal Who Loved Me

“Where are we going?” “For ice cream. What’s your favorite flavor?” “Fuck you.” “That’s my favorite, too.”
― Richard Kadrey, Sandman Slim