oh hell no, falafel sandwich.

if i lend you an article of clothing, it's because i don't want you to be cold. it's not because i want you to get your lunch on it. or your germs. or whatever the fuck that is that's on the seat of the bus. for fuck's sake, what is that? disgusting.

you've got to be joking, sushi.

how could you be so attentive the entire night, filling up our waters and asking how our food is, and then drop off the check and disappear for 20 minutes? how long do you think it takes me to pull out a credit card? it takes about as long as it took me to decide to not give you a tip, you jackass. hurry up.

ewwwwwww, eggs benedict.

cover your fucking mouth when you sneeze! i don't want ebola or tuberculosis or whatever crazy disgusting virus you have that you insist on passing on to everyone within a 5-foot radius because you can't be bothered to put your hand in front of your face. do it again, and i'll squirt purell in your mouth.

as if, whopper with cheese.

you're way nicer in my head than you are in real life. way to disappoint, dickhead.

it's not me, it's you, cheese blintz.

i heard your "joke" the first time, you don't have to keep repeating yourself. i didn't laugh because it wasn't funny. and no, it wasn't because i'm not savvy enough to understand. you're just an idiot.

and here's a tip: don't even bother repeating it when new people join us. they're not going to think it's funny, either. not ever.

welcome to walking in a straight line, sushiritto.

are you fucking kidding me, sushiritto? the sidewalks are not that narrow. why are you swerving? just walk. WALK. we're all heading in the same direction anyway!

you're way too much, bacon-wrapped hot dog.

frankly, you're insulting. and not funny. like, at all. ever. so stop trying.

i can't quit you, cadbury mini eggs.

i'm embarrassed to even be seen with you. at least comb your hair or something so you don't look like a hobo.

how dare you, baguette with cheese.

show some respect, you douchebag. it's passover.

get a clue, chalupa.

oh my god, chalupa. how many times do i have to tell you: I DON'T WANT ANY. stop calling me. forget you know me. just stop it, already.

you're not so tough, philly cheese steak sandwich.

wow, you beat someone up once. you were in 3rd grade and it was your stuffed elephant. that doesn't count, tough guy.

shut up, shut up, shut up, fried mac and cheese balls.

listening to you talk is like listening to a dinosaur passing a kidney stone. worse. plus, you don't make sense.

everything about you is wrong, pulled pork sandwich.

and don't pretend you don't know why.

you're a hypocrite, caramel apple.

you think you're so fucking healthy because you do yoga three times a week and you wear your little exercise pants to whole foods and you buy organic everything and you ride your bike uphill. you're also a chain smoker and you drink more beer in a weekend than i did my entire four years at college. get off your high horse.

not in a million years, in-n-out cheeseburger meal.

what part of "ew, never" do you not understand? just because i happen to look in your direction doesn't mean it's a free-for-all come talk to me invitation. i'd rather talk to a dog's ass.

i'm so grossed out, soft serve ice cream.

shit, can you cover your fucking mouth when you cough? i can actually see the fucking spittle fly out of your lips. it's enough that you talk about your cold incessantly, i don't need to actually catch it to know what you're going through. it's super gross, and it's making me dry heave.

you're a cheap whore, banh mi.

shut you're mouth when you're talking to me, you $4 hooker.

ok fine, bagel with cream cheese and lox.

you win, bagel with cream cheese and lox. i never write to you. it's not because i don't care. it's because you literally live 20 minutes away from me. i could walk to your house faster than it would take a letter to get there. ok, so now i don't visit often enough, either? fine! i'm sorry!

go away, fried mozzarella stick.

it's 2 a.m. and you're listening to creed. on repeat. loudly. there are 100 things wrong with this, and you're too stupid to name even one.

get a hobby, raspberry danish.

ok ok fine. so your brother was in "breakfast at tiffany's." that was 300 years ago. stop talking about it.