How did you find me? If you hacked into the Club’s computer to look up my appointments - "“Whoa, I think you overestimate me, shitlord. Last time I checked all I did was be in the wrong place at the right time. I saw you and had to - ”“Stalk me.”“ - delicately approach you. In a sideways manner. From behind. Without being seen at all. For ten minutes.

I would love to slap you right now, but I’m currently wielding a nine pound ball and I’m afraid that would be called murder.

Come! Come sit by me. It’s a nice bench. Nice and lovely on the butt.”“You’re drunk.” “Yeah, and you’re ugly, but do I complain about it? No! Because I don’t complain about things that I can’t change. That’s called intelligence.

I cannot, for the life of me, remember what we were just conversing about! Alas. I will forever remember this time we spent together affectionately and oh god I remember now you pervert!”“You were the one who shouted ‘sex’!” He hisses.“You were the one who was born, so really I think that’s the root of the problem.

I will pull your pancreas out through your nose and feed it back to you in a drip inserted into your anus is that clear?

Yes, my style sucks. But at least I didn't bowl half a game with a nacho stuck to my ass.

Is it? Because that picture of me was taken by my old school's yearbook club, and they put it in the section titled 'STUDENT FAILSAUCES! XD.What's an XD?A sideways laughing face of horrendous proportions. Don't change the subject.

Did you have fun? How many boys did you make out with? Seventy. At least. How many shots did you take?Fourteen. I let go of the wheel halfway home and Jesus drove me the rest of the way.