not so awesome, awesome blossom.

your new roommate is moving in this weekend, and she's trying to catch a cab to the place she's staying in the meantime. offering to drive her is a nice gesture. offering to drive her three blocks to catch a bus is ridiculous. why do you even try, awesome blossom?

sick, hamburger helper.

your excessive use of the cologne leads me to believe you didn't shower. perhaps you never shower. in that case, don't stand next to me.

pay attention, pasta carbonara.

i get that you're new to public transportation. the bewildered look on your face gave it away. but if you see a whole line of people doing one thing, like not blocking the left side of the escalator, do me a favor: don't block the left side of the escalator. it makes me hate you.

you're not helping, barbecue ribs.

you know what helps in a crisis situation, such as moving to a new house? providing beer. ordering us a pizza. unpacking a box. you know what doesn't help? you telling me about how the 2 hours the movers are here are going to fly by and we should help by carrying boxes to the blanket you spread out on the driveway. they don't want our help. and i don't want your help, dummy.

are you there, hostess cupcake? it's me, asshole.

look, the bus driver will open the door for you if you somehow couldn't manage to figure out where your stupid stop is. all you have to do is politely say, "back door." you don't have to shout like a lunatic and wave your hands around. fine. you almost missed your stop. that doesn't mean you have to act like a moron.

jesus h., frappuccino.

you know what's an art? painting. you know what else is an art? dancing. you know what's not an art? sitting on the bus. you just have to sit there. why do you keep wiggling around? there's nothing to see!

you are delusional, pork chop.

how do you think bills get paid around here, pork chop? you think they just get taken by the bill fairy and she magic wands them and pg&e and comcast are like, "wow thanks!"? no, you motherfucker. *i* pay the bills and *i* make sure they get out on time. *me.* i'm the bill fairy. that's why i ask you to write me a check every month. i'm not just taking your money. use your stupid brain for once.

how are you employed, sweet and sour pork?

in order to get to talk to you about anything regarding my anything, i have to confirm at least 12 different ways to get a hold of me, plus my social security number and birthday. so if my payment didn't go through because you have the wrong account number, you couldn't contact me? what. the. eff. then you have the nerve to tell me that you don't have the right account number, maybe because "someone typed it in wrong." really? you're going to charge me a late payment because someone can't type? i hate your face.

what is wrong with you, western bacon double cheeseburger?

we are all at a club. we are all drunk. if i look over and say "you're a great dancer!" and i'm smiling, chances are i'm not making fun of you. stop preaching to me about how "we're all in the same family." i'm not your fucking family, and i'm not your fucking enemy. the only enemy you have is the person who let you leave the house wearing that outfit.

stfu and gtfo, fried twinkie.

you're not 13 years old. you can't say "lol" to me in real life and expect me to take you seriously. use your vocabulary, you dick.

learn how to drive, tuna casserole.

why are you standing there honking at me and looking annoyed? there are cars coming from the other direction. i'm not just going to start crossing the street. that's how deaths happen.

you are such a snob, almond croissant.

did i ask you where you bought that? no. do i care how much it cost you? definitely not. stop telling me these things. we're not even friends.

you're definitely not johnny cash, cobb salad.

hi, your bedroom? it's not soundproof. so when you strum your guitar all hours of the night, i can hear you.

you're an elitist, enchilada.

why aren't my clothes good enough for you to buy for your lame hipster "thrift" store? and why the attitude about it? did my gap jeans insult you? it's not like you're giving me millions for this shit. i'm lucky if i leave here with $20. cut me some slack.

you're the worst, tapioca pudding.

have you ever heard of cling wrap? it's what you put on bowls that are full of leftovers in the fridge. covering your bowl with another plate is not only idiotic, but a waste of a plate. in what universe is that even a good idea?

how is this any easier, cherry pie?

this self-checkout thing is bullshit. if the store employee has to keep running to my self-checkout lane every second to override some other nonsense, then i might as well have just gone to a normal checkout line. what the fuck.

sit down already, garlic fries.

do you see that we are sitting on bleachers? do you see that there is something happening in the field in front of us? that's because we're at a baseball game, not a fucking county fair. stop getting up every minute to get something else to eat. and where did you find that funnel cake, anyway?