Arlette the artiste
◊ Check it out: I made a diary template for Dan. It's, like, hella evil.
Wow, I'm talented.
And I'm picking fights: Check out my notes. This little punk four years my junior is telling me how young I am and is getting on my nerves. I think I might escalate things with my response:
No, you do NOT freak me out. You irritate me. You keep harping about these things that obviously mean a lot to you, but you won't let anyone else get a word in edgewise. That's not dialogue. That's preaching. I FUCKING HATE PREACHING and I FUCKING HATE PREACHERS. Don't come near me or I'll put out my cigarettes on you, you arrogant little fuck. And don't tell people what to do, especially if you're not prepared to listen to them when they have something of their own to say.
How much do you wanna bet this little punk develops a martyr complex due to my harshness and lack of understanding? Ugh. I give up.
I think I should start putting out cigarettes on arrogant little fucks, as a matter of fact.