You Should Have Been Nice To Me.

There is a clearly definable limit to what I am willing to endure. The cattiness in the breakroom kitchen, the incessant "I got here first "posturing" in the subway, the universe just generally taking a pot-shot at one, and yes getting scalded in the shower for no good reason one considers a "pot-shot", so don't even think of hiding behind one your super massive black-whatevers and call it chance because I am not having it. And I can make shit happen.

I'm not going to rip a hole in the space time continuum or anything so prosaic, but all I'm saying is if there is gonna bees torrential thunderstorms, then one considers the Barbour Linhope jacket (1.) (despite all the overdone it aspect of it), and if you want to plop some smelly homeless jack on my subway stool every single effing morning, then I have lotus flower perfume perfectly suited for such an occasion & I am not afraid to use it. Gots plenty. In short... We are starting to fight back, and you might want to make yourself scarce. There I said it.

Also, I'm considering joining a gay friendly Rugby league and getting all sorts of massive so just look out. Me and my future super-massive handsome as oh you have no idea rugby playing boyfriend are abouts to get all super massive, impeccably dressed and unflappable on your ass. This is your only warning.
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(1.) The lightest Barbour shooting jacket ever. Perfectly suited for LA misting fits!