Hey, do you have a second? I’m worried about you. I know about all the Late Night. I know about all those chocolate muffins for breakfast. I just don’t know how else to reach out to you so it’s come down to this. This is an intervention and you need to hear this. What’s with all the pizza? Really, is that Domino’s again? That’s the third time this week. I just don’t understand what you’re doing with your life. Do you know what’s in that? I don’t care that it’s cheap. You’re better than this.
This isn’t just about you. This is self-preservation. You need to know how your actions affect those who love you. Do you know what it feels like to be covered in dried pizza sauce? It’s awful. Think of me. It just that, this dorm life thing is hard. I had a good life once, back when I was used to reheat your mom’s cooking. I can still remember the way pesto smells, and I can’t help dreaming of Thanksgiving leftovers.
That was what civilization was like.
Now you use that jackass toaster oven for the good stuff, and I’m stuck with all your culinary mistakes. It’s enough to give me a headache. You’re going to make my display all funky if you keep up with this.
Don’t you care about me anymore? You’ve got lots of brains cells. I’ve got a limited number of circuits and you’re frying all of them. You’re going to eat another hot pocket? Do you know how hard it is to watch you do this to yourself? To me? Fine. When you die of heart disease, I’m eloping with the TV.
