you say I’m a bitch like that’s a bad thing

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I can read people, it’s a secret, my super-power if you will. only I don’t strip my dress and fly across the sky in a spandex suit.

now that spandex got your attention..

don’t.

just..don’t.

don’t flatter me just because you think you’ll win my sympathy.

don’t get all nice to me because you’re looking to hook up with my friend – if you’re really that nice, go rock her world, spare me the testimonials (we’re not in an absorbent commercial where I’ll recommend you as the reliable kind).

don’t tell me you have an urgent project to do if you don’t feel like talking, I’d rather spend  my time with honest people.

don’t trash my ex because you think it will bring you points.

don’t compliment my work just because you think it’d be rude otherwise.

please, please don’t ask me what I majored in, when the only thing we know about each other is what beer we’re having; I’m not at an interview where you need to check my educational pedigree.

don’t talk to me just because you have nothing better to do, I really value my time.

don’t say quotes you have no clue what they really mean, just because you think it makes you look cool – I’ll know it’s something you read on someone’s t-shirt on your way in.

all this really does you a disfavor and it does me one, because I can really see through all of it, and in the end I’m thinking..

what the fuck ?

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