Breaded lies in baskets, surrounded by salty, starchy intestine-cloggers. As the fancy Brit refers to it, “fish ‘n chips”, or, to the Americans, “fish ‘n chips”. These are some things I hate. Others are cauliflower, electric scooters backing up road traffic, and British boy bands.
I also dislike being blamed for other people’s problems. It’s been happening a lot recently, and I’m finding my niceness disappears pretty quickly in these situations.
Don’t mess with me. I don’t enjoy second-guessing myself, and I’m not afraid to make you regret your decision.
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