Congratulation to Trevor Noah on his daily show, We dont need more Trevor's out there, but we need more people who like Trevor Noah, will unveil the possibilities out there. Who would do things we didn't think of doing. Who will wow us. Who would do something, that others think its impossible. Just know whatever you are trying to do.If you struggling on it.Most people are happy and wont say anything.But If it works and you get good recognition for it, that others admire you for it. Most people will hate you and say all bad things about you.They will even dig at your past, go way back before you were born.Just to humiliate you. They did it to Jesus. What can stop them doing it to you. Even when they do it. Dont give up. You are already there. Just smile and do what you do best @trevornoah
De philosopher Dj kyos
I immediately felt better about killing him. I've never known a Trevor who wasn't a total douchebag. It's just one of those names that goes so nicely with selfish, arrogant, malicious behavior""and really, what did I know about this guy? Nothing, except that his name was Trevor and he'd been nabbed in the midst of breaking-and-entering. That was plenty.
With a regrettable sigh he shook his head. "I'm sorry, but this isn't going to work out." "What the hell are you doing, Trevor?" Hank demanded anxiously. No doubt the man wouldn't be getting laid tonight, but Trevor couldn't help it. He had his standards and this woman failed them. "Maybe we could go grab a cup of coffee somewhere and get to know-" He held up his hand, stopping her before she made an even bigger fool out of herself. "Please stop." "But, I was only-" "Don't beg." "I wasn't. I was just-" "Begging?" Trevor guessed, sighing. "I know, but you're going to have to accept that this would never work out." She frowned up at him. "I wasn't begging. I was just going to suggest that we should-" "Look, " he said, reaching for the door, "this s just getting sad. I'm just going to go before things get out of hand.
Men deprived of female company quickly became fearsome creatures, and Trevor believed you could argue that civilization was in fact the invention of women, or at least the invention of the men who wanted to please them. If it were not for the ladies, Trevor often proclaimed, especially after a few beers, humanity would doubtlessly still be roaming the forests in animal skins.
I loved Trevor wholly. In all the good ways that made me feel alive and special and important. But also, in the bad ways. The ways that shut me off from others and left me alone with my pain. The ways that had me keep secrets. I loved Trevor in all the ways that I thought mattered, even though I knew that I didn't.
I like her, " Brad said, chuckling. "For a Red Sox tee shirt wearing woman I guess she's okay, " Jason grumbled. "Does no one care that she just manhandled me?" Trevor demanded, facing the men who should be properly outraged on his behalf. Jason snorted. "A s long as she brings me food she can bitch slap you and call you spanky." Trevor narrowed his eyes on the men who dared laugh at his pain. Betraying bastards.
Trevor cupped his hands around it, felt Zach's heartbeat throbbing between his palms. The skin of the shaft was textured, slightly rippled beneath the surface. The head was as smooth as satin, as rose petals. Trevor rubbed his thumb across it, squeezed gently, heard Zack suck air in through his teeth and moan as he let it out. He could see blood suffusing the tissue just beneath the translucent skin, a deep dusky rose delicately purpled at the edges, crowned with a single dewy pearl of come. It was as intimate, as raw as holding someone's heart in his hands.
Poppy Z. Brite
If I order an appetizer is there any chance I can get it quickly? I'm two and a half months pregnant with a Bradford, " she said, not mentioning it was twins because the thought was actually starting to scare her and she hadn't told Trevor yet and didn't want him finding out this way. She just hoped the woman understood because she was close to crying. Judging by the slightly startled look on the woman's face she did. The waitress shook her head. "No, you're right. You probably won't be able to survive the wait, " she said, sending Trevor, who was still trying to get the woman to leave, a glare. "I'll bring you out a bowl of clam chowder followed by chicken fingers, they'll only take a few minutes to prepare. Will that work?" Zoe nodded solemnly. "You are my hero." "I'll put a rush on your food, " the waitress said before walking away. "Bless you, " Zoe said, fighting the urge to kiss the woman.
Todd's wife was one of those women with a forced smile perpetually cemented on her face. Even after being chased by a mob of homicidal maniacs and attempting to barricade doors with barstools she kept up appearances, practicing for the days when her husband would be running for public office. When she saw her son poking at their former mail carrier's dead body a look of utter horror came across her face for the slightest instant. She caught herself and put that smile back on so quickly Will wondered if she might have pulled a few cheek muscles. 'Trevor!' she hissed through clenched teeth. 'Trevor, you get away from that this instant! You don't know what kind of diseases that man had. Children shouldn't play with dead things.' Will looked at Todd and smirked. 'Cute kid. How many of those things do you think are out there?
Who knew that you would be The One, " I smile, "which I guess makes me your Trinity." "My Amidala." "Your Zira." "My Sylvia." "Your... " I scour my brain, trying to remember some other great sci-fi love interest. "Ha! I'm your Saphira, " I settle back smugly, only for Trevor to start laughing. "Saphira is a dragon.
Cindy C. Bennett
After gaining the incredible platform from 'Glee,' it wasn't so much of a decision to get involved as it was an opportunity to take part. I'll be honest, I'm not so much into the idea of one cause being more important than another; however, I felt that the Trevor Project was a perfect fit for my efforts. It stands for a lot of things that I believe in, as well as falls in line with much of what 'Glee' stands for.
In 'Labor Day Hurricane, 1935,' Douglas Trevor vividly recreates a historical event. While that is the only story in A THIN TEAR IN THE FABRIC OF SPACE in the historical past, many of the other stories juxtapose fact-both historical and scientific-with narration to an engaging effect, one that distinguishes the voice of this new writer.
After everything that's happened, her fear of requesting a prescription or of asking Trevor about his mother baffles her. Shouldn't life-altering events make you less afraid of the little stuff? But it's the little stuff that paralyzes her: talking, eating, dressing, sleeping. Everyone in school is afraid of the apocalypse; she is afraid of living through it.
Alaya Dawn Johnson
Trevor realized that the odd thing about English is that no matter how much you screw sequences word up up, you understood, still, like Yoda, will be. Other languages don't work that way. French? Dieu! Misplace a single le or la and an idea vaporizes into a sonic puff. English is flexible: you can jam it into a Cuisinart for an hour, remove it, and meaning will still emerge.
'When you were little, what inspired you to feel this way?'" Then he paused and asked, "Looking in the mirror and having it crack in two?" Instead of clobbering him, I laughed-the kind of laugh that escapes into the air before you can catch it. The kind of chuckle that shows a tiny form of acceptance. Trevor obviously didn't expect me to find his remark entertaining. He was primed for a fight. We both cracked up and locked eyes. His gaze lingered a little too long, not in a creepy way, but in a way that says I'm not ready to let this moment go.
The official recruiting process for their posse began. Because Carlos, Narc, and Trevor each had high SQs, Heeb and Evan reasoned that adding the three to their group would raise the average SQ of each group member (much the way that colleges recruit individuals with higher test scores to increase the average test scores of their matriculated students).
You missed breakfast, " Jason announced as Trevor stepped into the large busy kitchen filled with Bradfords and food. "That's fine. I'm not really hungry, " he said, barely aware or caring that all activity in the busy kitchen suddenly stopped as every Bradford in the room, even one year old Cole stopped trying to climb onto the counter to get at the large platter of cookies his mother made to stare at him in disbelief.
Now the dressing-room full of RSC hierarchy. Suddenly Trevor Nunn pushes his way through and 'Trevs' me. I've heard a lot about this 'Trevving', but never had it done to me. From what I'd heard, a 'Trev' is an arm round your shoulder and a sideways squeeze. But this 'Trev' is a full frontal hug, so complete and so intimate that the dressing-room instantly clears, as if by suction. I'm left alone in the arms of this famous man wondering whether it's polite to let go.
You never have enough competition at any position, ... Several of the players listed at right wing have played center in the NHL, like Trevor Linden. Some can play both wings. I've been skating on a line with the Sedin twins. They are a lot more skilled than some people give them credit. Look at their point totals and they are right up there in their point-per-minute averages. My job will be to complement them and try to get our line to provide secondary scoring behind the big line of Naslund, Bertuzzi and Morrison. Those guys look good and I expect they'll be the top line in the NHL again.
Before the magisterial mess of Trevor Thomas's house, the orderly houses that most of us live in seem meagre and lifeless - as, in the same way, the narratives called biographies pale and shrink in the face of the disorderly actuality that is a life. The house also stirred my imagination as a metaphor for the problem of writing. Each person who sits down to write faces not a blank page but his own overfilled mind. The problem is to clear out most of what is in it... The goal is to make a space where a few ideas and images and feelings may be so arranged that a reader will want to linger awhile among them, rather than to flee, as I wanted to flee from Thomas's house.
You knew? How the hell did you know?" he demanded, wondering which bastard in his family had ratted his ass out. "It wasn't too hard to figure out, Trevor, " she murmured, looking totally enthralled with what she was doing. "What the hell does that mean?" He'd been careful, very careful. He'd never read anything in front of her, never wrote anything more than his name or a word or two in her presence. There was no way she could have found out without one of his interfering relatives clueing her in. "Who the hell told you?" Zoe rolled her eyes even as she leaned over to press a quick kiss on his lips, which made him slightly happy, but not enough to forget that he needed to kill one of his relatives. "You never read anything around me. You think you tricked me into reading for you. Then there was the time we ran out of condoms and you flipped out because you thought there was supposed to be 42 condoms in the box of 24." "Would it have killed them to put a few extra condoms in the box so that you could have seen to my needs?" he asked, remembering that damn night and trying not to wince. Okay, so maybe he gave himself away... just a little.