If you’re a girl and you’re about to enter some sort of social situation with me and you’re in one of those “I’m so tired so I’m going to complain constantly about everything and be absolutely impossible in every way,” do me a favor and kill yourself first. The end result is going to be the same regardless, but this way I don’t have to buy a bunch of bleach and a new hacksaw blade and chop you up into little itty bitty pieces and feed you to stray dogs and dry out your bones and grind them into a fine powder and snort them off your hand mirror with a tampon applicator I found in your bag, it just makes life easier for me, ok?