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| Now you really aren't going to make friends. | |
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| Childish reply to my statement of the obvious: "who'd want to be friends with the likes of you?" Yes - I am paraphrasing myself; so don't nitpick! | |
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| I'll write poems about your death (paraphrasing myself too here!) | |
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| I'll just have you on my plate with sauce and a salad upon YOUR departure from this cold cruel world... | |
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| I repeat: who in their right mind would want to be friends with the likes of YOU?!? | |
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