verbava все записи автора Christopher Moore – The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror

In another Christmas story, Dale Pearson, evil developer, self-absorbed woman hater, and seemingly unredeemable curmudgeon, might be visited in the night by a series of ghosts who, by showing him bleak visions of Christmas future, past, and present, would bring about in him a change to generosity, kindness, and a general warmth toward his fellow man. But this is not that kind of Christmas story, so here, in not too many pages, someone is going to dispatch the miserable son of a bitch with a shovel. That's the spirit of Christmas yet to come in these parts. Ho, ho, ho.

***

Anyway, forget that. Go out and do stuff for someone else. That's much better for you. 'Get to know yourself' – what good is that? What if you get to know yourself and find out you're a total harpy?

***

Oh, how the pillars of lust can crumble under the weight of stupidity.

***

He had broken one of the cardinal rules – Never go to bed with anyone crazier than yourself.

***

The bar was full of singles in their twenties and thirties and you could feel a desperate energy sparking around the dark room, like loneliness was the negative and sex was the positive and someone was brushing the wires together over an open bucket of gasoline.

***

There were two men and three women, including Lena, in the offices of Properties in the Pines when Tucker Case came through the door. The women were immediately intrigued by him and the men immediately disliked him. It had always been that way with Tuck. Later, if they got to know him, the women would dismiss him and the men would still dislike him. Basically, he was a geek in a cool guy's body – one feature or the other worked against him.

***

«Tucker, are you insane?»
«Sure.»
«Sure? Just like that? Sure, you're insane?»
«Sure, everyone is. If you think anyone is sane you just don't know enough about them.»

***

Oh no. This guy looked like a grown-up, but actually he had the mind of a dumb little kid inside. Like that guy in Sling Blade, or the president.

***

«Molly! It's Christmas. You're supposed to be my friend.»
Molly nodded at the phone, then realized that Lena couldn't hear her. True, she wasn't being a very good friend. After all, she was sworn protector of the cud-beast herdsmen of Lan, as well as a member of the Screen Actors Guild, it was her duty to pretend she cared about her friend's problems.

***

Please, child, if you must be rude, at least be original.

***

«I'm sorry.»
«Okay.»
«I just wanted you to know that. In case our brains are eaten by zombies without me having a chance to say it.»

***

«I'm not religious,» Molly said. Under the table, she held the tashi with her free hand, its blade resting across her bare thighs.
«Oh, me either,» said the angel.

***

Life is messy. Would that every puzzle piece fell into place, every word was kind, every accident happy, but such is not the case. Life is messy. People, generally, suck.

free_readings