Yes, sister, I am talking to you. You irritate me highly with your constant apple eating. You sit there and kick your desk and spin around and slurp (WHO FUCKING SLURPS APPLES?!) and crunch whilst I am trying my fucking hardest to
And it's not only apples you eat at that computer, oh no, the list includes curry and iced coffee and well, let's be honest, nearly everything you consume if consumed in front of that screen. And you eat with your fingers, WITH YOUR FINGERS. This shocks me for two reasons, firstly that you haven't, at aged twelve, mastered the art of cutlery. Second, you lick those fingers and touch the keyboard, then lick them again. THAT'S LIKE LICKING A PUBLIC TOILET SEAT. Scratch that, it's like licking the inside of a public toilet bowl which hasn't been flushed in a week.
You do all this and wonder why I shudder at the thought of you using my laptop. My fears are grounded, fool, you get bread crumbs in the keys and peel off those stickers leaving sticky marks and BREAK MY RIGHT ARROW KEY. YOU BROKE IT. YOU FUCKING BROKE IT. But no one listens to me when I beg and plead for you not to be allowed on my laptop, oh no, no one even listens to me when I petition for you to not be allowed to eat in the computer room. I come in here and see you eating something with your fingers, don't eat in front of the computer!
I'm not touching anything.
Yeah like shit you aren't, which is why the keyboard and mouse are covered in juice and crumbs.