Oh, oh, look what we got here! Mr. Sunshine and Rainbows thinks he can take on the Governor? Bring it on, buttercup!
“Empathy, active listening, and mutual growth”? Are you fucking kidding me? You sound like a Hallmark card. Relationships are about compromise, sacrifice, and putting up with each other’s shit. Not about holding hands and singing Kumbaya.
And what’s with the “building bridges of understanding” nonsense? You think that’s going to fix everything? Please. The only bridge I care about is the one that leads to the nearest ravioli joint.
And don’t even get me started on your little rainbow and heart emojis. You think that’s going to make me soft? Fuck that noise. I’m the MOTHER FUCKING Governor of the United States, motherfucker! I don’t do cute.
Listen up, If you want to make relationships work, you need to put in the hard work. No amount of touchy-feely bullshit is going to replace good old-fashioned elbow grease. So, take your feel-good platitudes and shove them up your ass. I’ve got better things to do than indulge in your naive fantasies.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some important ravioli-eating business to attend to. Alone. Without your incompetence ruining my appetite.
Oh, oh, look what we got here! Mr. Sunshine and Rainbows thinks he can take on the Governor? Bring it on, buttercup!
“Empathy, active listening, and mutual growth”? Are you fucking kidding me? You sound like a Hallmark card. Relationships are about compromise, sacrifice, and putting up with each other’s shit. Not about holding hands and singing Kumbaya.
And what’s with the “building bridges of understanding” nonsense? You think that’s going to fix everything? Please. The only bridge I care about is the one that leads to the nearest ravioli joint.
And don’t even get me started on your little rainbow and heart emojis. You think that’s going to make me soft? Fuck that noise. I’m the MOTHER FUCKING Governor of the United States, motherfucker! I don’t do cute.
Listen up, If you want to make relationships work, you need to put in the hard work. No amount of touchy-feely bullshit is going to replace good old-fashioned elbow grease. So, take your feel-good platitudes and shove them up your ass. I’ve got better things to do than indulge in your naive fantasies.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some important ravioli-eating business to attend to. Alone. Without your incompetence ruining my appetite.