You don't like that your coworker used me on that note about stealing her yogurt from the break room fridge? You don't like that I'm all over your sister-in-law's blog? You don't like that I'm on the sign for that new Thai place? You think I'm pedestrian and tacky? Guess the fuck what, Picasso. We don't all have seventy-three weights of stick-up-my-ass Helvetica sitting on our seventeen-inch MacBook Pros. Sorry the entire world can't all be done in stark Eurotrash Swiss type. Sorry some people like to have fun. Sorry I'm standing in the way of your minimalist Bauhaus-esque fascist snoozefest. Maybe sometime you should take off your black turtleneck, stop compulsively adjusting your Tumblr theme, and lighten the fuck up for once.
Wait wait. What do mean by "dress shoes" exactly?
"Granted, a lot of designers come across as arrogant, pretentious pricks. That's not designers. That's people. I know mathematicians and engineers who are arrogant, pretentious pricks."
The kinds of people who really hate Comic sans are generally the same annoying people who tell you how they were totally into that really popular band before they were popular, and yet they never seem to really do anything that isn't that popular or hyper trending. They are the ones that tell you what they think of every person in the office, except what they think about you until you step out of the room. Comic-sans haters are the passive aggressive twerps that generally are no fun to be around. They also seem to have big problem with Garfield and the Paintings of Thomas Kincaid. Despite the fact that the works of these artists hold prominent places in the living room of almost ever grandmother in America.
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