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.

why why why why, pretzels?

there aren't too many perks to flying southwest airlines. so when i get on the plane and get a window seat and there doesn't seem to be too many other people boarding, what on earth would make you think that sitting DIRECTLY NEXT TO ME is the proper use of space? don't you know the rules? i sit by the window, you sit by the aisle, and we leave the middle open! the middle seat stays open until the last minute!