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- “You know, the principle of the thing. I work a lot of hours, and Amy doesn’t, and I think it would be good for her if she did some basic home maintenance. Just basic upkeep.” Gilpin jolted like an invalid woken from an afternoon nap. “You’re an old-fashioned guy, right? I’m the same way. I tell my wife all the time, ‘I don’t know how to iron, I don’t know how to do the dishes. I can’t cook. So, sweetheart, I’ll catch the bad guys, that I can do, and you throw some clothes in the washer now and then.’ Rhonda, you were married, did you do the domestic stuff at home?” Boney looked believably annoyed. “I catch bad guys too, idiot.”
- just no. I mean just cause you work at the bar doesnt exclude you from doing housework. THIS GUY IS SUCH A DICK OH MY GOD
- So tell me everything about your marriage, tell me the worst. Because if I know the worst, then I can plan for it. But if I’m surprised, we’re fucked. And if we’re fucked, you’re fucked. Because I get to fly away in my G4.”
- That’s Amy, she’s graduated to murder. Holy shit. I’m serious, man, I bet whatever she’s got cooked up for you, it’s drum-fucking-tight. You should be fucking scared.”
- HOLY SHIT THIS GIRL'S FUCKING PSYCHO!!!!!!
- In fairy tales, there is always gold. I wait for him to give me a stack of bills, a slim credit card, something of use.
- I’d found it strange and kind of cute, Amy’s guilty pleasures, those cheesy true-crime books I’d discovered here and there around our house. I thought maybe she was loosening up, allowing herself some beach reading. Nope. She was just studying.
- I turned my back to her, and then I pictured her with a knife in her hand and her mouth growing tight as I disobeyed her. I turned back around. Yes, my wife must always be faced.
- “Then I—” She pantomimed slicing his jugular. “That easy, huh?” “You just have to decide to do it and then do it,” she said. “Discipline. Follow through. Like anything. You never understood that.”
nov 25 2014 ∞
nov 25 2014 +
nov 25 2014 +