“One bad decision is like building a long line of dominoes and then sneezing and not turning your head”
―
Julia Kent,
Random Acts of Crazy
“Whatever you do, it’s your life – not anybody else’s. You get to pick what happens next.” * * *” ― Julia Kent, Random Acts of Crazy
“People who think animals have expressionless faces are like people who can ignore an open package of Oreos. Not quite human.” ― Julia Kent, Shopping for a Billionaire
“When I look at you I can see my future roll out in one long laugh, like a red carpet of fun and intelligence and hope. A ripple of joy that stretches into the horizon until it disappears. Not because it ceases to exist, but because it’s infinite.” ― Julia Kent, Shopping for a Billionaire Box Set One
“Anger seeped in, like an old friend who was a lousy house guest, but you forget every time he leaves how much you wish him gone, and welcome him heartily when he reappears. Anger was so much easier than hurt, or heartache, or regret, so anger it was. Welcome my old friend.” ― Julia Kent, Her Two Billionaires and a Baby
“There is nothing more dangerous than someone who comes to realize that the reality they’ve been force-fed isn’t the only option.” ― Julia Kent, Random Acts of Crazy
“What else do you do with a life you didn’t choose and can’t get out of? You adapt and take whatever crumbs you can find so you don’t let your soul or body starve.” ― Julia Kent, Random Acts of Crazy
“Marie Jacoby is what all my friends called a MILFF—Mother I’d Like to Flee From.” ― Julia Kent, Shopping for a Billionaire
“I taste the past in his kiss. I taste apologies and regrets, questions without answers, the fine-grooved sense of time making me relax and tense up at the same time. Meaning doesn't matter in this brief flash of touch. What this kiss means isn't important. That it's happening at all is.” ― Julia Kent, Perky
“If she’s not giving you shit, she doesn’t think you’re worth her time,” ― Julia Kent, Random Acts of Hope
“You snitch!” It’s 6:45p.m. and I am being held hostage by terrorist extremists with a list of demands that make Al-Qaeda look like preschoolers playing pirate.” ― Julia Kent, Shopping for a Billionaire
“Hold on. Back up. This ‘incident’ at Shannon’s apartment. Say that again? Her mom walked in on you two having sex and recorded it? Was it under-the-covers sex or let-your-freak-flag-fly sex?” ― Julia Kent, Shopping for a Billionaire's Fiancee
“If you’ve never been in a men’s room, and have only set foot in the ladies’ room at most fine (and not so fine) establishments, you need to know this: store owners hate men. No, really—this is the one area where women get treated better. We may earn seventy-seven cents on the dollar compared to men, but, by God, our public bathrooms don’t look like something out of a Soviet-era prison. Or worse—a Sochi hotel during the Olympics.” ― Julia Kent, Shopping for a Billionaire
“What he’d learned over the past year, though, was that being complete wasn’t something that you acquired by loving the right person. It was something you had to put together within yourself so that when you did meet the right person you could detect their completeness. And that was when you knew you were home.” ― Julia Kent, Suspiciously Obedient
“oh! hai! I can haz menage?” ― Julia Kent, Her Two Billionaires and a Baby
“Mike suppressed an urge to shove Dylan. Unfortunately, Dylan had the impulse control of Bill Clinton in a room full of interns and couldn't hold back his nudge.” ― Julia Kent, Her Two Billionaires and a Baby
“The past twelve weeks had been a blur, and now she was about to meet her baby via ultrasound, go home with a picture of an alien baby that people would pretend was beautiful, and here she sat after drinking a liter of fluid, her panties moist from a bladder that gave up control right around the time her shoes stopped fitting. A light breeze could make her pee at this point. A sneeze would unleash a tsunami.” ― Julia Kent, Her Two Billionaires and a Baby
“Our two taco specials get shoved up on the serving counter, crispy, cheesy goodness in brown plastic baskets lined with parchment paper, sour cream and guacamole exactly where they should be.On the side.There is a perfect ratio of sour cream, guac, and salsa on a shredded chicken tostada. No one can make it happen for you. Many restaurants have tried. All have failed. Only the mouth knows its own pleasure, and calibration like Taco Heaven cannot be mass produced.It simply cannot.Taco Heaven is a sensory explosion of flavor that defies logic. First, you have to eye the amount of spiced meat, shredded lettuce, chopped tomatoes, and tomatillos. You must consider the size and crispiness of the shells. Some people–I call them blasphemers–like soft tacos. I am sitting across from Exhibit A.We won’t talk about soft tacos. They don’t make it to Taco Heaven. People who eat soft tacos live in Taco Purgatory, never fully understanding their moral failings, repeating the same mistakes again and again for all eternity.Like Perky and dating.Once you inventory your meat, lettuce, tomato, and shell quality, the real construction begins. Making your way to Taco Heaven is like a mechanical engineer building a bridge in your mouth. Measurements must be exact. Payloads are all about formulas and precision. One miscalculation and it all fails.Taco Death is worse than Taco Purgatory, because the only reason for Taco Death is miscalculation.And that’s all on you.“Oh, God,” Fiona groans through a mouthful of abomination. “You’re doing it, aren’t you?”“Doing what?” I ask primly, knowing damn well what she’s talking about.“You treat eating tacos like you’re the star of some Mythbusters show.”“Do not.”“Do too.”“Even if I do–and I am notconceding the point–it would be a worthwhile venture.”“You are as weird about your tacos as Perky is about her coffee.”“Take it back! I am not that weird.”“You are.”“Am not.”“This is why Perky and I swore we would never come here with you again.”Fiona grabs my guacamole and smears the rounded scoop all over the outside of her soft taco.I shriek.“How can you do that?” I gasp, the murder of the perfect ratio a painful, almost palpable blow. The mashed avocado has a death rattle that rings in my ears.Smug, tight lips give me a grimace. “See? A normal person would shout, ‘Hey! That’s mine!’ but you’re more offended that I’ve desecrated my inferior taco wrapping with the wrong amount of guac.”“Because it’s wrong.”“You should have gone to MIT, Mal. You need a job that involves nothing but pure math for the sake of calculating stupid shit no one else cares about.”“So glad to know that a preschool teacher holds such high regard for math,” I snark back. And MIT didn’t give me the kind of merit aid package I got from Brown, I don’t add.“Was that supposed to sting?”She takes the rest of my guacamole, grabs a spoon, and starts eating it straight out of the little white paper scoop container thing.“How can you do that? It’s like people who dip their french fries in mayonnaise.” I shudder, standing to get in line to buy more guac.“I dip my french fries in mayo!”“More evidence of your madness, Fi. Get help now. It may not be too late.” I stick my finger in her face. “And by the way, you and Perky talk about my taco habits behind my back? Some friends!” I hmph and turn toward the counter.” ― Julia Kent, Fluffy
“Delusion has a way of becoming part of life when you least expect it, or maybe when you most need it.” ― Julia Kent, Random Acts of Trust
“Whatever you do, it’s your life – not anybody else’s. You get to pick what happens next.” * * *” ― Julia Kent, Random Acts of Crazy
“People who think animals have expressionless faces are like people who can ignore an open package of Oreos. Not quite human.” ― Julia Kent, Shopping for a Billionaire
“When I look at you I can see my future roll out in one long laugh, like a red carpet of fun and intelligence and hope. A ripple of joy that stretches into the horizon until it disappears. Not because it ceases to exist, but because it’s infinite.” ― Julia Kent, Shopping for a Billionaire Box Set One
“Anger seeped in, like an old friend who was a lousy house guest, but you forget every time he leaves how much you wish him gone, and welcome him heartily when he reappears. Anger was so much easier than hurt, or heartache, or regret, so anger it was. Welcome my old friend.” ― Julia Kent, Her Two Billionaires and a Baby
“There is nothing more dangerous than someone who comes to realize that the reality they’ve been force-fed isn’t the only option.” ― Julia Kent, Random Acts of Crazy
“What else do you do with a life you didn’t choose and can’t get out of? You adapt and take whatever crumbs you can find so you don’t let your soul or body starve.” ― Julia Kent, Random Acts of Crazy
“Marie Jacoby is what all my friends called a MILFF—Mother I’d Like to Flee From.” ― Julia Kent, Shopping for a Billionaire
“I taste the past in his kiss. I taste apologies and regrets, questions without answers, the fine-grooved sense of time making me relax and tense up at the same time. Meaning doesn't matter in this brief flash of touch. What this kiss means isn't important. That it's happening at all is.” ― Julia Kent, Perky
“If she’s not giving you shit, she doesn’t think you’re worth her time,” ― Julia Kent, Random Acts of Hope
“You snitch!” It’s 6:45p.m. and I am being held hostage by terrorist extremists with a list of demands that make Al-Qaeda look like preschoolers playing pirate.” ― Julia Kent, Shopping for a Billionaire
“Hold on. Back up. This ‘incident’ at Shannon’s apartment. Say that again? Her mom walked in on you two having sex and recorded it? Was it under-the-covers sex or let-your-freak-flag-fly sex?” ― Julia Kent, Shopping for a Billionaire's Fiancee
“If you’ve never been in a men’s room, and have only set foot in the ladies’ room at most fine (and not so fine) establishments, you need to know this: store owners hate men. No, really—this is the one area where women get treated better. We may earn seventy-seven cents on the dollar compared to men, but, by God, our public bathrooms don’t look like something out of a Soviet-era prison. Or worse—a Sochi hotel during the Olympics.” ― Julia Kent, Shopping for a Billionaire
“What he’d learned over the past year, though, was that being complete wasn’t something that you acquired by loving the right person. It was something you had to put together within yourself so that when you did meet the right person you could detect their completeness. And that was when you knew you were home.” ― Julia Kent, Suspiciously Obedient
“oh! hai! I can haz menage?” ― Julia Kent, Her Two Billionaires and a Baby
“Mike suppressed an urge to shove Dylan. Unfortunately, Dylan had the impulse control of Bill Clinton in a room full of interns and couldn't hold back his nudge.” ― Julia Kent, Her Two Billionaires and a Baby
“The past twelve weeks had been a blur, and now she was about to meet her baby via ultrasound, go home with a picture of an alien baby that people would pretend was beautiful, and here she sat after drinking a liter of fluid, her panties moist from a bladder that gave up control right around the time her shoes stopped fitting. A light breeze could make her pee at this point. A sneeze would unleash a tsunami.” ― Julia Kent, Her Two Billionaires and a Baby
“Our two taco specials get shoved up on the serving counter, crispy, cheesy goodness in brown plastic baskets lined with parchment paper, sour cream and guacamole exactly where they should be.On the side.There is a perfect ratio of sour cream, guac, and salsa on a shredded chicken tostada. No one can make it happen for you. Many restaurants have tried. All have failed. Only the mouth knows its own pleasure, and calibration like Taco Heaven cannot be mass produced.It simply cannot.Taco Heaven is a sensory explosion of flavor that defies logic. First, you have to eye the amount of spiced meat, shredded lettuce, chopped tomatoes, and tomatillos. You must consider the size and crispiness of the shells. Some people–I call them blasphemers–like soft tacos. I am sitting across from Exhibit A.We won’t talk about soft tacos. They don’t make it to Taco Heaven. People who eat soft tacos live in Taco Purgatory, never fully understanding their moral failings, repeating the same mistakes again and again for all eternity.Like Perky and dating.Once you inventory your meat, lettuce, tomato, and shell quality, the real construction begins. Making your way to Taco Heaven is like a mechanical engineer building a bridge in your mouth. Measurements must be exact. Payloads are all about formulas and precision. One miscalculation and it all fails.Taco Death is worse than Taco Purgatory, because the only reason for Taco Death is miscalculation.And that’s all on you.“Oh, God,” Fiona groans through a mouthful of abomination. “You’re doing it, aren’t you?”“Doing what?” I ask primly, knowing damn well what she’s talking about.“You treat eating tacos like you’re the star of some Mythbusters show.”“Do not.”“Do too.”“Even if I do–and I am notconceding the point–it would be a worthwhile venture.”“You are as weird about your tacos as Perky is about her coffee.”“Take it back! I am not that weird.”“You are.”“Am not.”“This is why Perky and I swore we would never come here with you again.”Fiona grabs my guacamole and smears the rounded scoop all over the outside of her soft taco.I shriek.“How can you do that?” I gasp, the murder of the perfect ratio a painful, almost palpable blow. The mashed avocado has a death rattle that rings in my ears.Smug, tight lips give me a grimace. “See? A normal person would shout, ‘Hey! That’s mine!’ but you’re more offended that I’ve desecrated my inferior taco wrapping with the wrong amount of guac.”“Because it’s wrong.”“You should have gone to MIT, Mal. You need a job that involves nothing but pure math for the sake of calculating stupid shit no one else cares about.”“So glad to know that a preschool teacher holds such high regard for math,” I snark back. And MIT didn’t give me the kind of merit aid package I got from Brown, I don’t add.“Was that supposed to sting?”She takes the rest of my guacamole, grabs a spoon, and starts eating it straight out of the little white paper scoop container thing.“How can you do that? It’s like people who dip their french fries in mayonnaise.” I shudder, standing to get in line to buy more guac.“I dip my french fries in mayo!”“More evidence of your madness, Fi. Get help now. It may not be too late.” I stick my finger in her face. “And by the way, you and Perky talk about my taco habits behind my back? Some friends!” I hmph and turn toward the counter.” ― Julia Kent, Fluffy
“Delusion has a way of becoming part of life when you least expect it, or maybe when you most need it.” ― Julia Kent, Random Acts of Trust
