/Nora is complaining that heavenly beings are being unfair because they won't let her do whatever she wants./
Ah, so this is the part that you mentioned during your “Hush, Hush” sporking, where Nora complains that the angels are so mean for not letting her boyfriend get what he wants.
Newsflash, princess, your boyfriend is a barbarian and a brute and if there was divine justice in your universe, he would have had an appointment with Satan a *long* time ago.
/Also, I find it fucking rich that we're supposed to think that knocking Patch down a few pegs is a bad thing./
Oh, no, that’s what Marcie is for. She has ovaries and she is not Nora, therefore she automatically deserves whatever slander and spite is heaped upon her.
/And Marcie was many things, among them seductive and persuasive. Not only did she not take no for an answer, she didn’t accept any answer that wasn’t exactly what she wanted./
AHEM.
“And [Patch] was many things, among them seductive and persuasive. Not only did [he] not take no for an answer, [he] didn’t accept any answer that wasn’t exactly what [he] wanted.”
There, I fixed it for you.
/We are told that Mrs. Parnell is "A round woman with a bad pixiestyle haircut and heavy pink makeup followed her in",/
Hmm, an overweight woman who will prove to be unbearably obnoxious and nosy? Why, hello, Vee! My goodness, you’ve aged. I guess it was inevitable that you’d hook up with a fallen angel, given how you were stupidly swooning over one (Patch) and drooling over nephilim in the last book.
/... Do many people make bizarre comments to their friend about the legs of said friend's sixteen-year-old daughter?/
Dear Lord, Ms. Fitzpatrick, does everyone in your universe have to be a sleazebag? Mrs. Parnell couldn’t have exclaimed how much Nora had grown (as is common for these sorts of reunions) or compliment her hair or her face or say how pretty she was in general? No, she compliments Nora’s legs. *Legs.* A part of the body which has been fetishized for centuries. Don’t believe me? Why don’t you ask the people of the Victorian period how paranoid they were about women showing their legs, to the extent that it was considered scandalous for a woman to show her knees, or any skin above her ankle? Here’s a guide from Harper’s Bazar in 1868 on what the “proper” lengths for girls’ skirts are, depending on their age: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:1868-skirt-lengths-girl-ages-Harpers-Bazar.gif.
/Mrs. Parnell tutts at this, and says "I think it’s a gang name. All the gangs use nicknames. Slasher, Slayer, Maimer, Mauler, Reaper. Patch"/
Let’s get one thing, straight, Ms. Fitzpatrick. Patch is not a cool, awe-inspiring name. It’s a stupid name for a stupid character in a stupid book and stupid series.
/Hey Nora, here's a novel idea! Why don't you call him?/
*gasps* Oh, no! Because girls who take the initiative are shameless streetwalkers like Marcie Miler!
Nora is an unspeakably rude and presumptuous brat, Mrs. Grey is a clueless and spineless twit, and Mrs. Parnell is, like I’ve said, a grown-up version of Vee. The only character who walks out of this chapter with any sort of dignity is Scott. But, alas, I see signs that he is eventually doomed to be run over by the rampaging train of Character Derailment. *sighs*
no subject
Ah, so this is the part that you mentioned during your “Hush, Hush” sporking, where Nora complains that the angels are so mean for not letting her boyfriend get what he wants.
Newsflash, princess, your boyfriend is a barbarian and a brute and if there was divine justice in your universe, he would have had an appointment with Satan a *long* time ago.
/Also, I find it fucking rich that we're supposed to think that knocking Patch down a few pegs is a bad thing./
Oh, no, that’s what Marcie is for. She has ovaries and she is not Nora, therefore she automatically deserves whatever slander and spite is heaped upon her.
/And Marcie was many things, among them seductive and persuasive. Not only did she not take no for an answer, she didn’t accept any answer that wasn’t exactly what she wanted./
AHEM.
“And [Patch] was many things, among them seductive and persuasive. Not only did [he] not take no for an answer, [he] didn’t accept any answer that wasn’t exactly what [he] wanted.”
There, I fixed it for you.
/We are told that Mrs. Parnell is "A round woman with a bad pixiestyle haircut and heavy pink makeup followed her in",/
Hmm, an overweight woman who will prove to be unbearably obnoxious and nosy? Why, hello, Vee! My goodness, you’ve aged. I guess it was inevitable that you’d hook up with a fallen angel, given how you were stupidly swooning over one (Patch) and drooling over nephilim in the last book.
/... Do many people make bizarre comments to their friend about the legs of said friend's sixteen-year-old daughter?/
Dear Lord, Ms. Fitzpatrick, does everyone in your universe have to be a sleazebag? Mrs. Parnell couldn’t have exclaimed how much Nora had grown (as is common for these sorts of reunions) or compliment her hair or her face or say how pretty she was in general? No, she compliments Nora’s legs. *Legs.* A part of the body which has been fetishized for centuries. Don’t believe me? Why don’t you ask the people of the Victorian period how paranoid they were about women showing their legs, to the extent that it was considered scandalous for a woman to show her knees, or any skin above her ankle? Here’s a guide from Harper’s Bazar in 1868 on what the “proper” lengths for girls’ skirts are, depending on their age: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:1868-skirt-lengths-girl-ages-Harpers-Bazar.gif.
/Mrs. Parnell tutts at this, and says "I think it’s a gang name. All the gangs use nicknames. Slasher, Slayer, Maimer, Mauler, Reaper. Patch"/
Let’s get one thing, straight, Ms. Fitzpatrick. Patch is not a cool, awe-inspiring name. It’s a stupid name for a stupid character in a stupid book and stupid series.
/Hey Nora, here's a novel idea! Why don't you call him?/
*gasps* Oh, no! Because girls who take the initiative are shameless streetwalkers like Marcie Miler!
Nora is an unspeakably rude and presumptuous brat, Mrs. Grey is a clueless and spineless twit, and Mrs. Parnell is, like I’ve said, a grown-up version of Vee. The only character who walks out of this chapter with any sort of dignity is Scott. But, alas, I see signs that he is eventually doomed to be run over by the rampaging train of Character Derailment. *sighs*