"Oh Dear God, please, please, stop talking. I'm trying desperately to ignore the treacly sweet inanity of your asinine conversation but now I've got bile in my mouth and I will hold my tongue no further." -Sue Sylvester
How many times has this sentiment crossed my mind? How many? Is that okay? Am I a bitter, middle aged prude obsessed with a cheerleading team on the inside?
Here's a whole list of quotes that makes me love her all the more. Sigh. I'm going to copy the diary entry for you because I'm currently watching it...
Dear Journal, Feeling listless again today. It began at dawn, when I tried to make a smoothie out of beef bones, breaking my juicer. And then at Cheerios practice, disaster. It was unmistakable. It was like spotting the first spark on the Hindenburg. A quiver. That quiver will lose us Nationals. Without a championship, I'll lose my endorsements, and without those endorsements, I won't be able to buy my hovercraft.
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