It's just that...well, look. I lied. You are. To other folks, let's say, your friends or your mother or your dog or whatever, you're probably fine. Probably. To me? You annoy me. You're nice, and you most definitely mean well, but it appears that save for you disappearing, you can't help but be annoying. And I, save for disappearing in turn, can't help but be annoyed. So it's not your fault, it's not mine. We just don't go together. It happens. And I try to remember this when the thoughts of knocking your block off/stabbing you in the neck with a plastic fork/and/or/both creep in. Which is anytime you're anywhere within 600 feet of me and talking. So although there's really nothing to worry about--as I am a lover and Ambassador of Peace--you might want to keep it in mind, you know? Just for whatevers. Smooches!
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