Bebe told me you were all in Florida, but right now I just hope that the only place you end up is in Hell. Fact is, you do anything to hurt Bebe and you automatically fuckin' mess with me, fatass.
look god dammit, I'm tired of this crap. You make it out like I purposefully did this to hurt Bebe. I wasn't even fucking thinking of Bebe when I left, okay? God damn.
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You will never get this opportunity again. Bebe will still be there. Take her out to coffee or some other gay crap.
And give me back my cellphone!
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I'm in California.
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You stole my fucking date.
You set me UP.
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Well, he was. Now he's with me for Disney World.
Don't worry, I'll bring you back a Daisy Duck t-shirt or something.
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And second, why the hell do you even care what I do? God damn. Do you just get some sort of joy out of being judgmental over my every move?
Judge not, lest ye be judged, Wendy.
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