Best 19 quotes in «roommates quotes» category

And then Elena's dog ate her bacon. She had heated up a slice of bacon on a paper towel, put it on the table, and turned to open the fridge. The dog swallowed the bacon and the paper towel. She stared at the dog, its expression smug, and all the frustrations of her life boiled up in her head. A dog eating her bacon, a dog eating her bacon while she was jobless.

And then Elena's dog at her bacon. She had heated up a slice of bacon on a paper towel, put it on the table, and turned to open the fridge. The dog swallowed the bacon and the paper towel. She stared at the dog, its expression smug, and all the frustrations of her life boiled up in her head. A dog eating her bacon, a dog eating her bacon while she was jobless.

Don't see me as a girl. See me as a buddy of yours or something." He cast his eyes downward and didn't look back up to my face. I looked down and groaned. Such a guy. "My buddies don't have boobs, as far as I know." "Because you felt them up to be sure?" I chuckled, against my better judgement. Once again, his mouth dropped open.

Believe me, I knew you enjoyed it without voicing it that way. It was like your body screamed for me to take you." All too true, but I didn't like it to be told aloud. I arched an eyebrow, something I couldn't do when sober. "I'm pretty sure if I put a hand on your crotch, you're sporting a boner. It works both ways.

How my heart missed beating like this. For him. Only for him.

He tilted my head up with his index finger. Tingles spread on my skin. "Pain, obstacles, betrayal and all shitty things that happen in life shape everyone, just as much as good things do. Don't regret anything if in the end you can say you're an amazing woman.

Honestly, Evie," I huffed, flopping back to the centre of my bed and glaring at the ceiling. "Why don't you whine some more instead of actually doing anything?" "Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness," Arianna volunteered, leaning on the frame of my open door. "Yeah, so's seeing things no one else can, but people seem to like that about me." "Good point. Odds are, you've been crazy for years now. I'm probably nothing more than a figment of your imagination." "If that were true, I'd imagine you as less of a slob." She sighed. "Isn't it sad that you hate yourself so much you can't even dream up a pleasant roommate?" "Not as sad as the fact that you admit how bad you suck as one." Flashing a wicked grin, she narrowed her eyes. “ I'd use the term 'suck' sparingly around me.  Don't want to go planting ideas in my pretty,  dead head." I threw a pillow at her.

He hadn’t said a word to me until we had been roommates for eight months. And even then it had only been, “You’re wearing my socks.

He nibbled on my lower lip again and pulled away, his breathing loud and labored. I opened my eyes and met two blue orbs so dark with desire that it almost made me lose all train of thought and strip naked. His lips were red and a little swollen from our kiss. And I'd be damned if I didn't want to nibble on his lower lip, too.

His room was a sickly dual-tone of crimson and charcoal, like an Untitled Rothko, the colours bleeding into each other horribly and then rather serenely. The overall effect was overwhelmingly unapologetic but it grew on you like a wart on your nose you didn't realise it was a part of your identity until one day it simply was. His room was his identity. Fiercely bold, avant-garde but never monotonous. He was red, he was black, he was bored, and he was fire. At least to me he seemed like fire. A tornado of fire that burned all in its wake leaving only the wretched brightness of annihilation. His room was where he charmed and disarmed us. We were his playthings. Nobody plays with fire and leaves unscarred. The fire soon seeps into chard and soot. The colours of his soul, his aura, and probably his heart if he didn't stop smoking.

I took a bite of a Bloody Ploughman. Even the flesh was red. 'Bloody,' Carral said. 'Nice colour,' I answered. 'It looks sinful. I bet that was the apple Eve ate, you know, in the Bible, the forbidden fruit.' 'Might be. But I've eaten some too now. Does that mean you have to kick me out of your house?' I held the half-eaten apple out to her. She burst out laughing and pointed out at the factory: 'Does this look like paradise or what?

On and off the field, you're my hardest fall, Zoe. No one ever compared. No one ever will.

No." I pulled away just enough to lock my eyes with his. His crooked smile sent shivers down my spine. His eyes were a deep blue darkening more as the minutes passing between us were getting hotter. "I will be the one using you, and you'll love every second, every breath, every stroke and every fucking inch of me," he said, his lips ghosting above mine.

My maid never sweeps under the bed so I asked her to do so today. Found a pen, three pairs of shoes and the man I had lost two years ago.

Subletting may create a different problem for the tenant who sublets. Under some [rent control] ordinances, a tenant who sublets for a fixed term (e.g., a 3-month vacation) may not be able to evict the subtenant at the end of the subletting. This situation would arise if only persons with a specified record interest in the property have a right to evict for owner occupancy. The tenant (the seblessor) would not be able to evict the subtenant to reoccupy the premises, because the seblessor is defined as a "landlord" in the ordinance but not as an "owner." (If there is no other cause to evict, the owner-landlord could not evict the subtenant unless he or she planned to occupy the unit.) Counsel representing a subtenant should review the local ordinance to ascertain whether it defines a tenant as the "landlord" of the subtenant or if the definition of "tenant" includes any "subtenant." If so, the subtenant would have all the rights of a tenant under the ordinance. At least one ordinance specifically addresses this problem by providing that any landlord (not just an owner) may evict to recover possession for his or her own occupancy "as a principal residence" if the landlord previously occupied the unit and reserved the right to recover possession under the rental agreement. See Berkeley Mun[icipal] C[ode] §§13.76.040, 13.76.130. See also SF Rent Bd Rules & Regs §6.15C(1), discussed in §17.5. (In San Francisco, a well-informed tenant who is subletting will expressly reserve continued exclusive "possession" of some limited space so that the tenant can immediately enter on returning to the premises. Then, if necessary, and with proper compliance with the regulations, the tenant can evict the subtenant without cause.) It is unclear whether the Berkeley ordinance prohibits a landlord from evicting an unapproved subtenant and recovering possession, especially in light of the Costa-Hawkins Act (see §§17.1A–17.1G). If the landlord may not, then apparently the tenant who sublets may not object to further subletting by the subtenant. Such further subletting might, however, bar the tenant's right to recover possession. Berkeley Mun C §13.76.130 specifies that the right to recover occupancy must be in "an existing rental agreement with the current tenants." (Emphasis added.) A tenant who takes in a roommate by subletting must be distinguished from one who takes in a roommate with the landlord's consent, i.e., a cotenant. The roommate becomes a tenant of the landlord rather than a subtenant of the original tenant. In this situation, the original tenant has no right to evict the roommate. Only the landlord may evict and must have just cause [as defined by the ordinance] to do so if the roommate is found to be a tenant under the local eviction control ordinance.

Simon blinked himself awake, confused, for a moment, why he was in a dungeon that smelled of dung rather than his Brooklyn bedroom - then, once he got his bearings, confused all over again about why he was being awoken in the middle of the night by a wide-eyed Scotsman. "Is there a fire?" Simon asked. "There better be a fire. Or a demon attack. And I'm not talking about some puny lower-lever demon, mind you. You want to wake me up in the middle of a dream about rock superstardom, it better be a Greater Demon.

Speaking of banging, when’s McSailor getting home?” Kirsten’s smirk was the size of Texas. Sophie had to smile. “Crude. You’re crude, roomie.

Twice I'd come home as they were finishing, and, honestly, I cannot think of a lonelier sound on a Saturday night than one's roommate having a giant orgasm and then making an embarrassed sssh sound, realizing that maybe through her pleasure she'd heard the front door open and close.

Wie viele Mitbewohner_innen passen auf eine Todesanzeige, wie sehen Stammbäume von kinderlosen Queers aus.