Pfiffikus, whose vulgarity made Rosa Hubermann look like a wordsmith and a saint.
. A silent, putrid committed by someone in this very room, and only one person knows whodunnit.
He smelled the smells of commerce and listened to the cursing of the sailors, both of which he admired: the former, as it reeked of wealth, and the latter because it combined his two other chief preoc...
You do that Helen, Mallory dared. And tell him we said to f*ck off while youre at it.
Finally, a bit of luck. Rat bastard,' I hissed down at Montmartre. 'Mangy dog of a scurvy goat.''That doesn’t even make sense,' Isabeau murmured.'Feels good though. Try it.'She narrowed her eyes at th...
The best saints swear fluently.
He was kindhearted, in a way. You know the sort of kind heart: it made him uncomfortable more often than it made him do anything; and even when he did anything, it did not prevent him from grumbling,...
Fuck a zombie!
I'm a heart surgeon, sure, but I'm just a mechanic. I go in and I fuck around and I fix things. Shit.
Taking up marriage is a good excuse for taking up cursing."These is my words
If you've never been cussed out by a Siamese, you don't know what profanity is all about!