- Roommate: When you get the time can you look up the local Comcast phone # on Google or Bing and figure out the best student package.
- Me: What did you just say?
- Him: Look up the Champaign Comcast phone number?
- Me: On Bing? Who the fuck uses Bing?
- Him: I don't know, sometimes Internet Explorer sends me there.
- Me: Internet Explorer? What the fuck?
then look over the menu and say, “I forgot how expensive this place is.”
Because your date will tell her friends. And I will tell the internet.
Like you have to follow them in order to see the dumb shit they’re writing.
You do know that I can just add /mobile to the end of your URL and see everything right?
“Have you seen the riots in London?”
“It reminds me of Iran’s riots. crazy!”
After ignoring them all I eventually walked in her room and asked her why she kept texting me from 20 feet away.
“I’m practicing texting, I can type so fast!”
My mom is a 12 year old girl.
I was like 12 and a couple of us had been chosen to be interviewed for some reason and a journalist had to ask us a couple questions. One of the questions was about our parents and he asked what my dad’s name was and what he did. This is how the conversation went…
Him: What’s his name?
Me: No… Al
Him: Can you spell it?
Me: It’s not Ed!
This seriously went on for like 5 minutes, even with other students trying to tell him my dad’s name. Eventually I just fucking wrote it down and he made it seem like “Oh, why didn’t you just say that?” He understood everything else fine.
I have zero clue why I’m thinking about this now.
But I just watched the Real Housewives of NYC Reunion and holy shit I want to kill myself.
This conversation would happen every 5 minutes:
Bitch 1: You always talk shit about me!
Bitch 2: Name one time this season where I said something about you!
Bitch 1: That one time at that one party!
Bitch 2: Well, you were being a fucking bitch at that party so…
And yea, I know I could have changed the channel anytime I wanted. Go fuck yourself. I have a problem.