The name's Peter. From New Jersey. 22 years old. Absurdly sarcastic. Read much more in my "about me" by clicking on the link below. =) Side note: Many people are wondering why there are no "non-anon" questions on my blog. It's because I answer them privately so my blog doesn't get overwhelmed with questions. Side side note: I don't do promos. Side side side note: I don't reblog unless the post is something I really feel needs to be seen.
Me: *Prints something*
Boss: I thought your printer was out of ink last week.
Me: It was.
Boss: Then how did you print something from your printer? The new ink order isn't coming in until next week.
Me: I stole the ink cartridge out of your printer.
Boss: Give me a reason not to kill you.
Me: You won't know how to properly install the new ink cartridge when it comes next week because you're a techtard.
Boss: Fair enough. Enjoy my ink.
Boss: What's the story with that customer who didn't get the bill?
Me: I called him.
Boss: Did you talk to him?
Me: No, I sang him the chorus of my favorite Celine Dion song.
Me: Haha. Okay. See you soon. *Hangs up phone*
Mom: Who was that?
Me: A local prostitute named Wiggles. She'll be here in 20 minutes. You might want to tidy up the coffee table. Her Craigslist ad said she has high standards.
*On the phone*
Asshole banker: *Talking over me in an unpleasant tone while I'm trying to explain an issue*
Me: LISTEN. In this country you have the right to remain silent, so please, for the love of God, be a good American, take advantage of that right, and SHUT THE FUCK UP.
Me: *Hears parents yelling and cursing at each other in quite a serious manner*
Me: What the fuck are you two degenerates yelling about?
Mom: HE FUCKING CHEATED ON THE FACEBOOK GAME WE'RE PLAYING. I LITERALLY WANT TO GO TO A HOTEL TONIGHT.
Dad: SHE HAS NO IDEA HOW TO PLAY.
Me: This right here is why I used to sit in my room at night as a child and have 'happy time' looking through adoption brochures.
*Commercial for Giorgio Armani cologne comes on TV*
Uncle: Oh! I smelled that in the store. It's smells awesome. I'm definitely buying it for myself. I don't care how much its costs.
Me: *Whips around* Really, bitch? You don't have a job and you live in your parents' basement. Now isn't the time to have champagne taste on a Kool-Aid budget. Calm the fuck down.
Boss: Lost in thought over there?
Me: Someone asked me to come up with two words that really describe me to the core, and I'm trying to think of what to say.
Boss: May I offer a suggestion?
Me: You may.
Boss: Sarcastic asshole.
Me: Perfect! Thank you! By the way, that new haircut makes you look fat.
Boss: Those bank checks that you left on my desk, do you want me to sign them?
Me: No, I want you to put a little Christmas tree sticker on them and see if the bank accepts that in the name of Christmas spirit.
Boss: Have I ever told you that you're part of the reason that I drink?
Teacher: Peter, are you gonna continue sitting there playing with your phone and eating Doritos, or are you gonna attempt to pay attention?
Me: I'm gonna continue playing with my phone and eating Doritos.
Teacher: What if I take your phone away?
Me: What if I tackle you to the floor and make the morning headlines?
Aunt: You smell like cinnamon and liquor.
Me: And you smell like mothballs and depression. What's your point?
Mom: Where did I put my glasses?! Ugh, I lost them six times today! I'm gonna drive myself insane!
Me: Luckily for you, it'll be a short trip.
Mom: I said it when you first started talking, and I'll say it now: you're a demon child.
Me (to boss): Did you make coffee yet?
Boss: You stroll in late and expect coffee made? I'm not your personal waiter.
Boss: Decaf or regular?
Me: With a shot of espresso.
Random guy at Shoprite: Do I know you from somewhere?
Random guy at Shoprite: Are you sure? *awkward wink*
Me: I'm sure. Something wrong with your eye?
Random guy at Shoprite: I don't think so, but maybe you should take a closer look at it at my place?
Me: And maybe you should step aside and let me buy a box of Fruity Pebbles before I beat the shit out of you with a pound of overpriced bacon.
Me: *In the bathroom*
Mom: Peter, you in there? What are you doing?
Me: I'm fine tuning my diving skills by jumping off the toilet and diving into the bathtub. Would you like to come in and score me? My swim coach couldn't make it.
Mom: I should've given you away when I had the chance.
Boss: Alright. I'm leaving to play golf for the rest of the day. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!
Me: I guess working is out of the question then.