--yeah, well...

You know what? Fuck you, too!
You have no right to say what you did about me, because you don't even have the slightest idea what's going on inside my head.
I'm perfectly fine, but bitches, you need mental help.
I never said anything about you. You're probably so fucking full of yourself that you assumed that it was about you.
Get yourselves a brain!
So, I know, you might hate me for those comments. And you might call me a fuck, say I'm full of bullshit, blahblahblah, whatever whiny shit goes through your head at times like these.
I swear, I don't even know anymore (you're fucking insane, by the way; so fucking get help).
I never said anything in the first place, so watch your tone. You never know what might come back and bite you in the ass.
Don't say I know nothing about family. I know a hell of a lot more than you. I wasn't the one sitting there, pretending not to know anyone and ignoring my own grandmother.
So, fuck you. Lots and lots and lots.
I tried. I promised her I'd try, and I did. I came there, sat next to you and fucking tried to make small talk. And she knows it.
The next thing I know, you're claiming I said shit about you. Which is utter rubbish. I'm sorry, but you're not a very big part of my life, and therefore, I just don't talk about you.
So you know what? Fuck you.
And I would really advise you to think before confronting me. Because, y'know, I actually finished school.
Not to mention, I heard so much shit about you for the past couple of years, and not only did I deny it, but I stuck up for you. It's so stupid that you hear one thing about me and you believe it.
But hey, as Amelie would say, c'est la vie.
And fuck you very much; stay the fuck away from me and out of my life.
Kaythxbai.