Stupid Questions To Ask Novels & Stories

Dennis said. "Well, I can still memorise your favourite colour, your best meal and hobbies. We've talked about that the other day right?" replied Kelsey. Dennis nodded and ran his left hand through his hair. "I'm not sure if they'll be asking you such cheap questions." "Cheap questions?" "Yes," Dennis replied and went on. "They may want to know how we met, maybe ask about your family, your childhood and other stuff you know? Maybe ask about my favourite music, what my mood is like and the rest."

I read through some and then I shook my head and dropped it as I got to my feet, placing my hands over my head. “This is ridiculous,” I said. He looked up. “What is ridiculous?” “These questions. One of them is asking whether I’ve had an abortion. What kind of stupid question is that?” “Like I said,” he reiterated, “these are possible questions… questions to get you off guard, to get you angry, mad, to make sure that you are put off your game.” “Well, I’m surely put off my game by these questions,” I said. “What do you want me to say in court when they ask me all these questions?”

Now, that's a question I'm unable to find an answer for. "Fuck.... Ah!"

he tapped the floor lightly, “you start stripping.” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Can’t we just skip this question? I’ll answer the next one. Please.” “Nope,” Kaid said, unmoved. “You answer this one.” “Pleaseeeee? Ask me something else.” Kaid leaned back, cool as ever. “Alright. Have you ever faked an orgasm?” “What kind of question is that?” I gawked at him, my voice pitching in disbelief as heat crawled up my neck.

He screams through tears. I roll my eyes and kick his leg. “I didn’t ask for your backstory, moron.” Sometimes I wonder why people are so damn adamant to talk to me. The questions, of the questions; they never stop. Who are you? How did you get inside my house? Why are you doing this? Where are you taking me? Why are we going to the basement? What are you going to do with that spoon? Shit, they’re so predictable.

what’s with our questions? “I don’t have one.” “Why the hell are you smiling?” “Nothing.” I was so bored that’s why I asked something out of the blue. “When was the last time you had sex?” “What the fuck woman?!” he yelled. Why’s he yelling? What’s wrong with my question anyway, it’s harmless! “So when?” “I’m not gonna answer that.” He’s now glaring at me. I just stared at him with blank expression and we’re now having a staring contest. And guess what I won.

I paused. "You cannot ask any question linked to the previous one...each and every question should be unique...." I said. "Fine" he said. "No uncomfortable question...i will have the choice to abort the question..." I said. "No...its not fair...and there is no such things like uncomfortable between couples..." He said. "But.." i started. "No if and buts...i will not ask you any uncomfortable question...okay?" He said. "Okay. My first question is your happiest moment?" i said.

“Do you still love Lester?” Do I still love who?! My head snapped up, my eyes widening in disbelief. A short, humorless laugh escaped my lips. “What? Why would you ask something so stupid?” I replied, shaking my head as if trying to rid myself of the absurdity of the question. That was a dumb way to break the silence.

what the actual fuck! i wanted to not be asked question but instead of it i would be asked even more "please begin the questions" The teacher spoke "Do you have a boyfriend" that was the first question asked by a guy. great! who does he think he is to ask such question? my mother? "No i don't" i replied honestly "Then can i ask you out" i wanted to smash my head across something hard. i looked at the teacher "This is something normal darling." what's with her encouraging tone?

“And he’s not the bragging type.” “You know what? Try asking better questions next time so you don’t sound dumb when you talk to people, okay?” she instructed. “Is that your new way of saying I’m stupid?” “Aren’t you?” I stared at her, deadpan. “I hate that I can’t even argue with that.”