(I have the kind of friends who will mess around anywhere and everywhere at any chance they get. This occurs in the school bathrooms at lunch time.)

Me: *in the cubicle* “Guys, what the h*** are you doing?”

Friend #1 and Friend #2: *make shuffling noises and giggle*

(I realise then that Friend #1 is probably trying to unlock the door so I put my foot on the door to prevent them from pushing it. I then discover I am right as I see the lock moving.)

Me: “F*** off, [Friend #1]!”

Friend #1: *laughs*

(Friend #1 then proceeds to kick my bag, which was leant against the door, further into the cubicle.)

Me: “Seriously, [Friend #1], cut it out!”

Friend #1: “I was only pushing your bag in for you!”

(My friends then stopped messing about for a while and then I heard Friend #2 complaining.)

Me: “[Friend #2]? What’s [Friend #1] doing?”

(Suddenly I hear a loud bang as something lands on the window ledge above me.)

Me: *gasps in shock* “S***! What the f*** was that?!

(I then realise that Friend #1 had thrown Friend #2’s school planner, which is used to record homework and key dates, into the cubicle.)

Me: “You are so lucky that didn’t go into the toilet!”

Friend #2: *not hearing me properly* “It didn’t go into the toilet did it!?”

Me: *laughs* “No!”

Friend #2: *relieved* “Thank God!”

Friend #1: *laughs* “You guys…”

Me: “[Friend #1], you’re lucky that I’m in the toilet right now because that scared the s*** out of me!”

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(My friend and I are having a conversation. I make a stupid joke and he gives me a death look.)

Friend: *in a ‘creepy’ voice* “I’m staring into your soul!”

Me: *deadpan* “Joke’s on you; I don’t have one.”

(He didn’t know how to respond to that!)

(I have a neurological disorder that affects my senses. In most people, it makes some senses sharper and some duller, but in my case it has made all of my senses far too sharp. As a result, I am physically incapable of wearing most clothing and dress very selectively. My middle school has a dress code that I am exempt from. I get asked about it a lot, and it really gets on my nerves, so I tend to give people snappy responses.)

Kid: “Hey, why are you allowed to be out of dress code?”

Me: *has had a long day and is ready to slap someone* “Why is that your business?”

Kid: “Well, I wanna be out of dress code, too!”

Me: *snaps* “You know what? I’ll trade with you! You can live in my life! You can have to leave every event you go to because it’s too loud! You can be incapable of wearing a collared shirt or jeans because it literally gives you a panic attack! I wish I could be in dress code! Did it ever occur to you that if someone is allowed to be out of dress code, there’s probably a freakin’ good reason for it? Now get out! I’m tired, I’m angry, and I’m about to go to class with a teacher who hates me.”

Kid: “…”

(That felt amazing. I also gained much more confidence after shutting him down like that! Little brat had it coming.)

(I recently moved to live closer to my parents, to help drive them around and help them out in other ways since they’re getting ‘older.’ As a result, my dad has found our car is no longer quite big enough and he complains to a friend, a lawyer, in the church’s parking lot. This happens right after I, my brother, my mom, and dad have all gotten out of the car.)

Dad: “This car is too small. You couldn’t even fit one clown in it!”

Lawyer Friend: *not missing a beat* “No, three clowns and your wife just got out of the car.”

(And I did get the lawyer’s permission before posting this!)

(On Facebook an acquaintance has been complaining about her two-year-old daughter.)

Acquaintance: “[Daughter] is so hyperactive, I can’t get her to have an afternoon nap or even get her to sleep at a reasonable hour at night. I don’t know what to do. She just runs around getting into everything.”

(A few days later she posts a picture on Facebook.)

Acquaintance: “Our afternoon treat: coffee with [daughter].”

Me: “You are joking, right? That’s not really coffee that [Daughter] drinking, is it?”

Acquaintance: “Yes, but she only has a half a teaspoon of coffee. It’s our daily treat.”

Me: “And you wonder why she’s so hyperactive? Don’t you realise how bad it is for children, especially a two-year-old? They can’t process caffeine like adults.”

Acquaintance: “But it’s only half a teaspoon.”