He's probably somewhere right now eating a Big-N-Tasty. The man has a coffee pot, a microwave, AND a mini refrigerator in his classrooom. If you plan on having a conversation with him, I suggest you do it over the phone. Otherwise, you'll need a motorcycle helmet just to avoid the Snickers shrapnel flying from his mouth!
WE do try to eat," Raoul called back to her [Kel]. I go all faint if I don't get fed regularly. Only think of the disgrace to the King's Own if I fell from the saddle.""But there was that time in Fanwood," a voice behind them said."That wedding in Tameran," added the blonde Sergeant Osbern, riding a horse-length behind Kel."Don't forget when what's-his-name, with the army, retired," yelled a third."Silence, insubordinate curs!" cried Raoul. "Do not sully my new squire's ears with your profane tales!""Even if they're TRUE?" That was Dom. It seemed Neal wasn't the only family member versed in irony.
Kat and I talked about Jacob in our own private code."Are you baking cookies yet?" she said. That was standard for : have you fucked?"Oh yeah. We've made a couple dozen by now.""What kind?" In other words, was Jacob any good."Chocolate-chip," I said. "And he not only likes to bake them, he likes to eat them, too.""Congratulations.
There ARE people who won't customarily eat an entire row of cookies, or hear food calling their name from other rooms, or who don't grind up food in the garbage disposal for fear of eating it, or get it back out of the garbage so they could eat it. Of course, my binge eating was just a cover-up for the larger issue: Trying to fill the emptiness
Do you want a cookie?- What?- A cookie. Like an Oreo. Do you want one?- No.- How can you not want a cookie?- I just don't.- Okay, fine,let's say you did want a cookie. Let's say you were dying for a cookie, and there were cookies in the cupboard. What would you do?- I'd eat a cookie?- Exactly. That's all I'm saying.- What are you saying?- That if people want cookies, they should get a cookie. It's what people do.- Let me guess. Dad won't let you have acookie?- No. Even though I'm practically starving to death, he won't even consider it. He says I have to have a sandwich first.- And you don't think that's fair.- You just said you'd get a cookie if you wanted one. So why can't I? I'm not a little kid. I can make my own decisions.- Hmm. I can see why this bothers you somuch.- It's not fair. If he wants a cookie, he can have one. If you want a cookie,you can have one. But if I want a cookie, the rules don't count. Like yousaid, it's not fair.- So what are you going to do?- I'm going to eat a sandwich. Because I have to. Because the world isn't fairto ten-year-olds.
Been eating candies, have you?""You sent those?" She kept her mouth closed as much as possible."Of course." He picked up the brown bad of candy on the table. "What's your..." He trailed off as he weighed the bad in his hands. "Didn't I give you three pounds of candy?"She smiled impishly."You ate half the bag!""Was I supposed to save it?""I would have liked some!""You never told me that.""Because I didn't expect you to consume all of it before breakfast!"She snatched the bag from him and put it on the table. "Well, that just hows poor judgement on your part, doesn't it?
You hunt and catch your own food. Am I correct?""We are fierce predators of the night," DeChevue said proudly.Edwin tried again, "You hunt and gather your own food?"DeChevue still didn't get it. "Yes, M'sieur. We hunt, proudly.""You know, there is a special name for people who have to catch and kill everything they eat.""And that name has been the terror of the night from the dawn of man. Which name would you like? I can supply many. Nosferatu? Das Vampire?""Peasant," Edwin said. "A person who has to provide all his own food is a peasant. How is it that you have lived all this time and are still ignorant of the division of labor?"DeChevue's mouth opened and closed several times. Each time he seemed on the verge of saying something, yet each time words failed him.