I'm a very mature person. I'm sure you can tell. So naturally, I have very mature adult conversations, in which one person tells the other how they genuinely feel and the other acknowledges said feelings and respectfully interjects their own, possibly differing opinion, for further discussion.
Let's see an example, shall we?
Kevin: My friend Chris used to eat fried bologna sandwiches. It was gross. Who wants to eat fried chicken butts???
Me: Sick Kevin, don't say that.
Kevin: What?? Chicken butts? Sorry. What do you want me to say....chicken bottoms????
Me: Kev....GAH...pfff, why do you TALK?
Kevin: Blahblahbalhahjalsdjlkfjlajdl;jal;sjd;laj
Then I get out my phone and take a picture of Kevin and proceed to draw this and send it to him.
He does the same and draws a mustache on me, and captions something like...."I'm a wench"
I laugh, a regal laugh, as if this is above me and that MY drawing was better....and although I already feel like this.....
I would like to maintain the appearance that I embody this
/smug
//still regal
///not at all bothered by this ridiculous diatribe
He carries on. And finally I'm like, "HEY! Why do you tell me things like that? MUST you make me think about bologna? I hate the IDEA of bologna. Why on earth would you talk to me about eating it fried and in sandwich form???"
Then pulls this face. (I did you the courtesy of captioning it)
Which makes me all
/red anger lines
//scrunch mouth
///crazy curly hair
////suddenly no make up
Kevin realizes this can quickly spiral out of control. So he zips the lip. Because who wants to get in a full-on verbal apocalypse as a result of a tiff over fried bologna sandwiches?? Well, he for sure shouldn't. Because I would clearly win!
So we sit. In silence. And I do this.
Muahahahhahahahhahha!! See? I winnnnnn!!
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