"Don't leave me in the dark like a grounded teenager! I need you to bring me into the loop about these international infiltrators trying to stake their claim!"
These talkers are like the sriracha to our bland small talk - bringing the heat and that extra bit of unconventional flavor, with a healthy dose of Beyoncé stardom.
It's as if we're playing a never-ending game of "tag," except this time, nobody wants to be "it."
These talkers are like the sriracha to our bland small talk - bringing the heat and that extra bit of unconventional flavor, with a healthy dose of Beyoncé stardom. Imagine living with an apparitional flatmate that's always hovering around, sipping your soda and nibbling on your chips without ever revealing themselves. I guess it's like entrusting your lawnmower to the eccentric neighbor; you may not be elated, but you don't want to seem like a mow-stake. It's as if we're playing a never-ending game of "tag," except this time, nobody wants to be "it."