You know what really burns my biscuits? The rarity of wrinkle releaser. Like how are you going to have seventeen different forms of fabric refresher and a total of zero wrinkle releasers available? How stinky is the general public? Is that really a thing? Why not just wash your fucking clothes Pig Pen? Furthermore, doesn’t wrinkle releaser work as a fabric refresher as well? Why do we even need fabric refresher in the first place? It’s a pointless product that’s inferior to its actually useful cousin and yet still, it multiplies like a Dugger. Burnt biscuits never killed anyone, but I might.
You know what really burns my biscuits? The hair on my head. I would hope that after three decades together, we could have a better relationship. Have I made a few wrong turns over the years? Sure. Those growing pains were tough on both of us. Thinking we could pull off “the Rachel” before we even knew how to handle a styling tool? That was truly unfortunate. The misguided highlights and emo/duck butt haircut were tough times for both of us. I get, that due to prior decisions I have made, it might be hard to trust me. There may even be some ill will, for the embarrassing trends I’ve succumbed to over the years. That being said, can we call a truce? Could you for once, please not make me look like a perennial “before” photo? For once, could you please resemble something other than a frizz filled disaster? Burnt biscuits never killed anyone but I might.
You know what really burns my biscuits? Cops pulling over people during rush hour. Don’t you have a doughnut shop to frequent? The rest of us are trying to make those ends. Is it really fair to punish us for a failure to conform to the time restrictions of “the man?” Can’t we call a truce on speeding tickets from like 7:00 am to 9:00 am at the very least? No one’s trying to get away with murder. We’re just all trying to get away with not getting fired. Don’t you like those tax payer dollars? While we’re on the subject, can’t we calm it down during the evening commute too? Everything’s as constipated as an oxy addict with a cheese fetish anyways. The last thing we need is a reason to rubberneck. Try to catch me ridin’ dirty by all means, just please do so outside of regularly scheduled heavily trafficked time periods. Anything else is just being a dick. Burnt biscuits never killed anyone, but I might.
You know what really burns my biscuits? Weak ass guest raps. Seriously, some of this shit, I could just write down the low points of a Tourette’s induced rant and call it a day. It’s embarrassing. Even worse, the perpetrators don’t seem to have the good sense to realize how terribly lacking in verbosity they are. If someone wants to write sub-par nursery rhymes and put it on their own album, more power to them. My point of contention, lies in jamming some hot new tune and a half, only to have an auditory shit stain streaked across this pristine experience, by some wanna be a baller wookie fart. Please keep that wheezy knock off mediocrity to your own piece of crap. Burnt biscuits never killed anyone, but I might.
You know what really burns my biscuits? The big FUCK YOU large corporations dole out on a daily basis. The lack of competition enables a consistent supply of zero fucks given. Seriously. Irritated your cell phone provider canceled your discount? Even though you upgraded into a new contract? Guess what sucker? They have you locked into business for two more years and you know what that means? Fuck you! What are you going to do? Go to one of their two competitors who follow the exact same business model? Probably not. So just go ahead and swallow that big old fuck you down. So over your cable provider? Ever feel like the rates just keep going up and your quality of service keeps going down? Where ya gonna go? If you can find another option consider yourself lucky. More than likely, it’s some shitty piece of shit you passed on in the first place. If you’re the only ticket in town, you can kind get away with being a cunt. You don’t exactly have to be the prettiest girl in the room, if you’re the only girl in the room. Burnt biscuits never killed anyone, but I might.