Yes, it is that time of year, and quite frankly, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be saying this again to the person himself soon after he stops pissing himself over his own self-righteousness. Of course, last night, he was mad enough to want to “distribute pieces of this plate” all over my room. Seriously…quit with the melodramatics. I know you’re tired and frustrated and angry about your work. I get it; I really, really do.

In the meantime, on the homefront, you just have so much to complain about, don’t you? So let’s just set the record straight here.

The first thing I usually ever cook is rice. Why? Because it usually takes about 15 minutes to cook and then 5 minutes to sit, which gives just enough time to cook the main dish so that freshly cooked rice can be served with it. While cooking the rice, I cooked the steak, which, as we both know, was browning in the refrigerator. In a few days, it would’ve started turning green. Afterward I cooked the egg in the steak sauce left in the frying pan.

During that time, I saw the cauliflower in the refrigerator and knew that it, along with the steak, wasn’t going to last long. So I cooked it. As I said earlier on skype before you decided to drown me out, “What do you want me to do?” Hmm? I’m not going to throw it out when it’s not rotted yet but going to be. And for your information, although anyone with a good amount of sense would realize this, you CAN’T buy cauliflower by the florets. It’s just physically impossible. Why? BECAUSE IT’S SOLD BY THE CROWN IN. A. BAG!

But fine, whatever. Within this past year, no, not even…within the time I’ve known you, I’ve come to understand that anything, any single thing that I do for you…scratch that, that I just DO, is never good enough, that your arguments against me are always perfect and flawless and the most logical things Einstein could ever think of. Additionally, whenever I do actually feel like speaking up, you shut me off and become absolutely unapproachable.

Well, fine, I get it. In your mind, I will always be a simpering, pathetic little 17-year old who never knows any better and who will never grow up.

 

Have a nice fuckin’ day.

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