No, I won't sign your stupid petition, burrito bowl.

Oh I'm sorry. Putting a chain restaurant in this neighborhood is really going to take away from all the other crappy shit that already exists in this neighborhood? Do you even understand how hypocritical this petition is? I'll be in the Pottery Barn next door drinking my Jamba Juice from down the street while you think about what the fuck you're talking about.

how are you not deaf yet, scallops?

so we're all in this traffic jam at the same time, you do realize that, right? oh right, you DO realize that, because i can see you looking around like a dick, making sure everyone knows it's you and your blown-out speakers blasting some nonsense shit that nobody cares about. do everyone a favor and turn it down. it looks like your hubcap is about to abandon ship, anyway.

are you high, doughnut burger?

i don't get why you don't know how this works. this bus isn't even crowded. look around you. is anyone else standing on anyone else's feet? no. so back the eff off me before i cut you at the knees.

what in the eff is wrong with you, buttered popcorn?

see this room we are in? it's a movie theater. see the 300 empty seats? it's a wednesday; there are only four people in here, including you and me. was it necessary to sit right next to me? i can hear you breathing. i hope you kick your soda over.

that's not going to pick itself up, stromboli.

your dog pooped on the sidewalk. don't look around all sneaky and pretend that you don't see it. everyone sees it. your dog is enormous. even your dog is like, "are you going to pick that up, man?"




(image found here)

stop saying that, gyro sandwich.

just so you know, saying "my bad" doesn't automatically fix everything. in fact, it doesn't actually fix anything.

have some consideration, cannoli.

we're not at LAX, we're walking in the financial district of san francisco. schlepping a wheeled suitcase behind you that is so clearly your "briefcase" and not your luggage for a vacation is so stupid and annoying and making everyone trip and fall all over themselves. and the worst part is that your head is so far up your ass, you don't even notice. i'm going to wheel that thing all over your stupid face in a second.

ugh, udon.

are you 10 people wide? how come you sat next to me on the bus and now i'm smooshed up against the window? learn boundaries, you asshole. sitting on my thigh is definitely crossing a line.

you're a slimeball, fried okra.

that customer you're flirting with couldn't be less interested in you if she stood up, spit in your face, punched you, and then laughed. so speed it along and take her order already, i have places to be and i'm next.

do you know what time it is, potato knish?

having you as an upstairs neighbor is probably the worst thing that's ever happened to my REM cycle. your clomping around and moving furniture and bowling and whatever else the fuck you are doing up there is making me want to set your apartment on fire. just know that.

seriously stop it, christmas cookies.

clearly you think this movie is funny, christmas cookie. you know how i know? because you KEEP SAYING SO IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MOTHERFUCKING MOVIE THEATER. "this movie is hilarious." "omg, this is so funny." didn't you watch the part in the beginning where the popcorn told you to shut the fuck up?

what do you want from me, hanukkah gelt?

shoving me isn't going to make the door open any faster. you are dead to me.

step back, sangria.

unless you're the mothereffing big bad wolf, don't huff and puff at me. clearly i can't move any faster because there is literally A WALL OF PEOPLE IN FRONT OF ME. if you weren't so busy being passive aggressive, you'd have noticed ALL OF THE PEOPLE.

that's what you get, ravioli.

do you know why you missed your bus stop? because you've been on the stupid phone all morning. ALL MORNING. all i've heard all morning is you on the phone. all of the talking in the world was done by you.

we're not friends, duck l'orange.

the waiter seating us next to each other, practically on each other's laps, isn't my fault. i don't even know you. so stop pretending like we're friends, asking me how my meal is, and telling me the guy you're with is a "friend from new york" and "not a boyfriend." it's awkward.

are you effing kidding me, double down?

what in the actual fuck are you wearing? you do realize that you are in public and that i'd say about 90% of the population IS NOT BLIND AND CAN SEE YOU.

wait your stupid turn, jelly doughnut.

i'm not digging through this sale rack for my fucking health; i'm digging through because everything is 50% off. can you wait one stupid minute for me to move over before you shove your scrawny self into where i'm standing? this sale rack is meant to be shared. move your skinny arms out of my way, before i take this hanger and smack you in the head with it.

stop complaining, honey nut cheerios.

being anonymous on the internet doesn't really give you the right to be a dick, yet here you are, being a dick. hope your computer crashes, dick.

i can't take it anymore, chicken kebab.

you do realize that everyone can see your facebook posts, right?

ok, just checking.

you got what you deserve, shrimp cocktail.

do you know why you tripped up the stairs at the train station? because you're an overachieving douchebag. only overachieving douchebags walk up those million steps at 8 a.m., rather than take the escalator.