Look, Nice Person. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want all your friendly.
I realize I'm engaging and hilarious and if you strike up a conversation with me there's every chance I'll make a sweet baby-eating joke or show you a picture of an awesome turd I snapped in the Target restroom. Clearly, this is why you're lurking on the periphery of my conversations with actual people I know and tolerate, leering, waiting for your chance to interject. I need you further away from me, sharing your keen insight into the Brett Favre situation with someone who gives a shit what you think. Like your mommy or your cat.
I just don't need to know any more people right now.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment