Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
if you don't have anything more interesting to ask than "how's work going?", don't ask anything at all. i've known you for almost a year. the fact that we still haven't passed the small-talk stage is sickening. silence is golden, deviled eggs.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
holy mother of god, breakfast buffet. do you have mirrors in your house? do you know how to use a mirror? whoever told you that the outfit you're wearing at your age is a good idea was either blind or lied to your fucking face. your adult diapers are showing. fuck.
Monday, March 28, 2011
can you close your fucking mouth when you have food in it? and can you stop with the lip smacking? like, why does you eating have to be in stereo? your gaping mouth is grossing me out and i can't handle you. if i wanted to know what you ordered, i would've asked.
Friday, March 25, 2011
giving everyone dirty looks is not going to make this line go faster. it's a line. that means there are people waiting. patience is a virtue, you motherfucker.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
we're at a live show, kit kat. when you yell out loud and "joke around" with the performers, they can hear you, and so can everyone in the entire audience. and trust, you're not as funny as you think you are. shut up and sit down.
Monday, March 21, 2011
you stupid tweaker, with your shady friends and your shady face and your shady attitude. give me back my phone, thief.
Friday, March 18, 2011
i know more about you than i know about myself, and that's not a good thing. shut up about yourself. at least for one minute. and you can't just make up words and expect people to know them. nobody knows them. and furthermore, nobody cares.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
hi, speak up. i can't hear you when you whisper, all breathy and stupid, from 25 feet away. oh god, you know what? never mind. i don't even care what it is you have to say. no seriously. i don't even care.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
great, so you grew up on the east coast and went to an all-boys boarding school. fine, so you went to a small liberal arts college and go leaf peeping, whatever the fuck that is, every chance you get. so you wear wool scarves and collared shirts and row crew and trade stocks. you live in san francisco now. get over yourself, donuts.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
oh my god, are we in slow motion? the light telling you you're allowed to cross the street has been blinking for like, two years, and you're still shuffling along so slowly, you're practically going backwards. go already. and stop waving your hand frantically at the cars waiting for you, telling them to stop for you like they don't see you. trust. they see you.
Monday, March 7, 2011
pull your pants up and take that stupid hat off. i'm not sure why you're wearing a t-shirt that's three sizes too big, but it probably has something to do with your "thug life." you're a jewish kid from the peninsula, hamantashen. you wouldn't know thug life if it shot you in your "grill" with its "piece."
Friday, March 4, 2011
"finding yourself" is something you do when you're 19. when you're still "finding yourself" and you're 40...and you're still living with your mother, it's just pathetic. put the remote down, take a shower, and go make a living, you jerkoff. removing the imprint your ass has made in the sofa is going to come out of your first paycheck.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
so we're standing next to each other in line at the grocery store. that doesn't make me your buddy. stop trying to engage me in banter. stop thinking of me as your ally. yes, i agree, these avocados are expensive. but i don't want to talk with you about it. i don't even know you.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
nobody cares about how many girls you've been with, how many beers you can drink, or how much money you make. your sports car was handed down to you from your mom, and you borrow money from your grandma to make your cell phone payments. you're not cool and mysterious. you're a poser. and everyone (i'm serious, everyone) knows it.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
if you unbutton one more button on that shirt, my eyes are going to burn out of my head and fall out of my face onto the sidewalk. then i'll have to sue you. we're in public and you're disgusting. nobody wants to see chest hair down to your beer belly, you slimeball.