I pointed in the general vicinity of my left ovary, "This is Beam Me Up. " Then to my right. "And this is Scotty. " Garret chuckled and buried his face in his hands. He asked.
Son, feelings are what women have. They come from their ovaries.
I guess I just have bigger ovaries.
I got the swag and it's pumping out my ovaries
You know, these conservative women, somebody really needs to go repossess their ovaries. Really, truly, they have no right to them. They are fabulous, little organs and they have absolutely no right to be estrogen-bearing beings. Okay? Just cut 'em off, let 'em go through the hot flashes, let 'em just sit there and complain about hormone therapy, okay? Just take the ovaries and get it over with. Because they don't deserve to have estrogen. They really don't. It's a privilege.
Because there's no way on earth she's going to make it through college unless she grows some serious ovaries and turns this train wreck around
I’m just not interested. ” “Do you have ovaries?” Jacob asked. I shot him a look. “Yes. ” … “Then how are you not interested.
I have no clue. I have ovaries; therefore, I repel all things mechanical.
I told her I wanted a plastic surgeon to sew me up, and I wanted her to freeze my ovaries, so I could harvest the eggs and have a biological child through a surrogate.
Apparently the pro-choice types who jump up and down in the street demanding that you keep your rosaries off their ovaries are entirely relaxed about the government getting its bureaucratics all over your lymphatics.
Time waits for no ovary.
A young woman in her teens has about 300,000 eggs in her ovaries. By the time she is menopausal, none are left.
The Victorian woman became her ovaries, as today's woman has become her "beauty.
I can't even be around children. It's a problem. My ovaries start screaming.
