I can be a real bitch.

There are very few things I do well. I'm ok with that. It's no big deal.

I'm no good with a paint brush, and sonnets come out of my mouth mangled. I can cook well enough to survive. I don't have the drive to be the best in school. I'm lazy and apathetic when it comes to most things, but please for your own sake, do not engage me in an argument.

I will not be your friend for the duration of our conversation if either of us get passionate. I don't hold punches (I will stay on topic though). I won't shut up until you submit or cry. I'm just not a fun person to riff with.

Luckily for you (and everyone that knows me), I do not consider much an actual argument. You really have to piss me off. Other times, it is just a discussion, nothing more.

I am a great arguer, and I love to do it too. I rarely get to, but exchanging venomous words exhilarates me. I know it is wrong on many counts. I'm pretty sure I only like it, because I am good at it. Can you really blame me for that?

My favorite thing I've ever said to someone while arguing: "I have a mouth full of words that have nothing to do with her."