Please Leave. Now.

Ok, Cream Colored Shawl Girl, it is time that you leave our office. I just can't handle it anymore. Stop saying "like" between every fourth word. That went out in the eighties. I've counted 78 times that you've slapped your thighs. That's annoying, too. You should probably breathe more, you know, between your incessant rambling. Although, I'm assuming your loud sighs at the end of your tragic monologues is what provides you adequate oxygen to continue. (Lucky us.) And I'm glad you finally noticed that huge green smudge over your right breast but you did not have to stand in front of my male co-worker attempting to rub it off for the last three minutes.