Exactly. But yeah, well. Trying to explain that didn't exactly end in my favor, clearly. The moron just has his horns lodged up his waste chute so far that they're starting to tickle his grey matter.
Yes, yes. You were right, oh great one, and I, the meager little worm, continues to be in the wrong.
I still say it fucking sucks to just sit back and let stuff like that take their course. Especially when that course is just a spiraling downward slope of fucking misery.
Augh. You're such a nook sniffing asshole, you know that?
Of course I'd still like to be friends with the ankle-biting barnacle head. Like I really need more of a disconnect with the shithive maggots friends that I've had since, well, before I can remember. Since I still think of him as a friend ( mostly! ) and I don't know, Dave. It'd just be nice if, for once, someone took my lectures seriously without stirring up so much shit about it.
You tried telling him all this? Actually, that's a bad idea. There's a lot to this I don't really understand. Because my culture and your culture don't really mix. I think you need to give this one a little time. Don't give up, but see what develops for a few weeks.
I wasn't going to tell him all of this. I'm pretty sure he'd just scoff and say that it was obvious that it would happen because I've been around humans too long or some shit.
I bet that's it. He hasn't had the sacred ritual rite of biting into soft doughy tortilla or the sharp crunch of corn chip like goodness wrapped around layers of suculent still sizzling beef, garnished with cheese and tomatoes, with a little bit of fresh green tossed in.
Maybe he hates the beef. There's always turkey or chicken. Or even fish.
Why would I want to watch you eat it? I trust your word. Do you really think I belong in a boy band? Do I look like the sort of tool that would pose all pretty for the camera and belt out shitty pop lyrics?
Okay, if you're going to play that card. You look like one of those talk show hosts or angry stand up artists that spend most of the time ranting on and making gestures with their hands. You are Dennis Leary. It is you.
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I still say it fucking sucks to just sit back and let stuff like that take their course. Especially when that course is just a spiraling downward slope of fucking misery.
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Of course I'd still like to be friends with the ankle-biting barnacle head. Like I really need more of a disconnect with the shithive maggots friends that I've had since, well, before I can remember. Since I still think of him as a friend ( mostly! ) and I don't know, Dave. It'd just be nice if, for once, someone took my lectures seriously without stirring up so much shit about it.
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Maybe he hates the beef. There's always turkey or chicken. Or even fish.
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Why the fuck not, yeah I am.
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For you? Pretzels and peanut butter. Go.
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