I'm never fucking dressing up again. Screw the damn girls.

What the hell is up with all the fucking sob stories around here? Snap out of it, you fucking pansy-ass losers. I have enough crap to deal with without being bombarded with damn annoying whining.

Boo-fucking-hoo. Pay a hooker to care.

For the record, I'm not a damn babysitter.

Some bitch let her kid wander off this afternoon and it found me working in one of the boiler rooms. Brat screamed it's fucking head off. Kid's damn lucky it didn't trip into anything down there.

FUCK ALL OF YOU AND YOUR GODDAMN "ROMANTIC HOLIDAY."

HALF OF YOU SHITS WON'T BE TOGETHER FOR THE NEXT ONE.

FUCKING BITCHES.

(ooc: one of the school secretaries left him chocolates)