A word of truth. I don't like you very much. I don't like that you've got something over my friends that make them tell you everything. And then you know everything. And you don't tell me that you know everything. And I have to hear from people that hear from other people that you told them these things about me. You're a damn gossiper. Like a friggin' stalker. I don't have to see you to get mad at you. Just thinking of you makes me mad. I don't even like you. At all. And crap, I'm gonna have to see you for the next 2 days straight.