You're so crazy. I can't believe you both came from the same parents.

You failed your music theory class two times--and then only earned a B! Do you really, honestly think you're going to get into grad school?!?!?!??!

If we spend more than two days together, I think I'll just have to slit my wrists and bleed all over you. Your constant stories about yourself are getting really, really old.

You are not "very sensitive to cigarette smoke." You were complaining about your damn headache all day long, before we were even around any smokers. Quit making shit up.

Why do you find it necessary to ask me if you should throw your old maxi pads in the trash can? Where in the hell else would I want you to put them? Jesus. Christ.

And why do you always call me? Call your brother for stupid questions; he's the one fortunate enough to be related to you.

Ugh.

Quit being so self important, gaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh