Better that way, I guess, seeing as how I don't really like you anyway. You fill my time and, to be completely honest, you upset my stomach. I know you are killing me... but I don't have time to find a replacement. I have facebook, I know there are better options available, but, come on... you like me because I'm cheap.
Honestly though. Rare fucking form tonight, aren't we, sweetheart. My friend said you were a mess when he went to pick you up. Already a wreck. Breaking shit all over the floor because you're unstable. Get your shit together.
Maybe that's why he told you to stay in the other room. Cool off a bit.
So... if you could refrain from foaming over with ice, and ruining my friend's cigarettes, I'd really fucking appreciate it. I'm paying attention to you for God's sake! In fact, I'm giving you so much of my time that I need more of you. Come here, you.
Let's both be honest. I know you don't care about me.
I'm not jealous.
If I had known you were coming, I wouldn't have came. Because seriously, how many of my friends have put their lips on you? I mean, don't you even care what people say about you? You! You love it. Don't act like you fucking don't! Look at how many outfits you wear! Could you be more available? And you fucking advertise it! I mean, fuck me, you blatantly post a billboard on your forehead that says, "look at me, I don't give a fuck about what's inside me or how I maintain myself, but I want you all to love me. BECAUSE I'M CHEAP!"
I can't believe I've spent the entire night with you talking about this. I should have sat in the corner and been un-social. Taken the high ground.
When it's all said and done, I'm full of you. I'm literally feed up... to... here with your bullshit. You made me do stupid things. I ate too much, I ended up going home with someone I didn't like, and all you did was make a mess all over my friend's house, stay up all night with that stoner guy -what's his name- and, remind me that there is a price to love.
You're scent lingers on my skin...
I need a shower.