I just have standards, dammit.

The criteria for depression annoy me.

“Loss of interest in things you used to enjoy?”

OK, fine, but…sometimes shit just gets boring.

How is it MY fault that everything is garbage except John Mulaney specials and Serenity on repeat?

What the fucking fuck, man?

I know I’m a half-ass “lady” at best, but…

A man in my office, who’s old enough to be my father, was just making small talk with me, and he said, “I have jury duty next week. What a pain in the ass, I have to take the fuckin’ train in…”WHOA. Watch your fucking mouth, motherfucker! This is a fucking place of business, and I am a fucking LADY!

Do you, like, smell the hoodrat on me? Is there something about my face that makes you think this is acceptable? It’s not even that I’m a woman — it’s just bad manners, and you KNOW you have bad manners if I’M the one pointing it out. But also… yes, as long as wage gaps and thigh gaps are things I’m just expected to deal with, I do expect a base level of civility and etiquette until you get the all-clear that I’m cool with that kind of rapport, especially at work, especially when you’re a grown-ass man, shitdick.

(I had a similar reaction when a 21-year-old female assistant used “fuck” during our second at-work conversation. BITCH, I am old enough to be your mother, and I will knock the “fuck” right out of your FACE.)