Nice try, Scott.



Women are “frail, languid, delicate, and nervous” around you because we all saw you in the paperback aisle of the drugstore with that copy of Twilight in your one hand while the other one was “scratching yourself” through your pocket. And when we say “NO ALCOHOL” that means that we don’t want you to buy us a cocktail so piss off. We’re not afraid of you dropping a Roofie into our beverage, we’re afraid of you dumping one of those bunk-ass Starving Blood gel tabs into our whiskey because some warehouse employee possibly mixed up your corn starch capsules with the Sea Monkeys, and our martini ain’t got time for that.

Yes I realize that I’m double-fisting a martini and a whiskey, I had a bad day!

Dammit, Scott. You better hush yourself or you’re going to need all those blood tablets to replace what I punch out of you.


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