If you're looking for an author who can deliver high-octane thrills every time and a character who is NOT to be messed with, you've found them. Zoë Sharp and Charlie Fox both kick ass.
The thing is to be brave and move the audience with you, instead of cater to the lowest common denominator, you know, slipping on a banana peel and falling on your ass. You got to move the audience a little further ahead in terms of their appreciation of what is comedy. It's complicated.
There's an upside to the digital thing from my point of view because I find that I have access to all this wacky, weird-ass dance-music stuff that I just can't go into a shop and buy on vinyl.
I am a bit of a goody-goody. Not that there aren't times when I think, I was kind of an (ass) today. I work in a world in which people are really catered to; someone will come up to me and say, "Is it OK if this person's makeup is done before yours for the premiere?"
I love a good wool suit, and I appreciate the fact that it's a natural fiber. I know where it comes from, and I know how it's bred. And it's built to last. It breathes and it feels good. A lot of my climbing and hiking gear is all wool, because I can wear it for a week straight and it doesn't smell. And when you get hot and sweaty in a cold temperature, it stays warm. So your body temperature stays at a good warmth rather than freezing your ass off.
The only thing that's problematic is the constant explaining, the constant need to kind of go, No, I don't want that because of such and such. I feel like I'm a pain in the ass, and I don't like being difficult.
Over the years, I have been fortunate to get to play a lot of really kick-ass girls.
Girl, don't make me put my foot in your ass.
I'm not defending what Cory Booker said. I'm saying I understand why he has to kiss the asses of the rich people on Wall Street, because there's no other way to keep his city afloat.
I flew this past weekend. I went through airport security and said to the guy, 'Is everything okay?' He said, 'You might want to have that mole on your ass checked out.' That seems a little personal to me.
Kiss is the number-one American band in gold-record sales. In the world, only the Beatles and the Stones are ahead of us. Every other band should be wiping my ass. The line forms over there to the left.
Nature is thoroughly mediate. It is made to serve. It receives the dominion of man as meekly as the ass on which the Saviour rode.It offers all its kingdoms to man as the raw material which he may mould into what is useful. Man is never weary of working it up.
The man might have become a Power, but he preferred to remain an Ass.
I'm not a real vocal guy, but sometimes you need to kick someone in the ass.
The average schoolmaster is, and always must be, an ass.
What ass first let loose the doctrine that the suffrage is a high boon and voting a noble privilege?
The feeble howl with the wolves, bray with the asses, and bleat with the sheep.
Irony is to the high-bred what billingsgate is to the vulgar; and when one gentleman thinks another gentleman an ass, he does not say it point-blank, he implies it in the politest terms he can invent.
But my thoughts ran a wool-gathering; and I did like the countryman, who looked for his ass while he was mounted on his back.
The thing that distinguishes social systems from physical or even biological systems is their incomparable (and embarrassing) richness in special cases. Generalizations in the social sciences are mere pathways which lead through a riotous forest of individual trees, each a species unto itself. The social scientist who loses this sense of the essential individuality and uniqueness of each case is all too likely to make a solemn scientific ass of himself, especially if he thinks that his faceless generalizations are the equivalents of the rich vareity of the world.
A man is but an ass Who fights in a cuirass
There are braying men in the world, as well as braying asses; for what is loud and senseless talking any other than away of braying?
I’m dead ass running for president in 2016.
And meteorologists have nothing to tell people in Philo, who know perfectly well that the real story is that to the west, between us and the Rockies, there is basically nothing tall, and that weird zephyrs and stirs joined breezes and gusts and thermals and downdrafts and whatever out over Nebraska and Kansas and moved like streams into rivers and jets at and military fronts that gathered like avalanches and roared in reverse down pioneer oxtrails, toward our own personal unsheltered asses.
I had a rule about stilettos, and it was this: I didn't wear them unless I planned to kick ass in them. Stilettos were for striding and sauntering, never sulking.
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