1. You’re not fat.
OK, OK. I mean, you’re not stick-skinny, but hey, you’re not obese. Maybe you’re round? Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe instead of saying “You’re not fat,” we could just gauge the situation by asking “Would you rather…” questions like, “Would you rather sit on the couch and eat peanut brittle or sit on the couch and eat a hamburger with bacon and avocados?” and if they answer “both,” I’d ask them to share. But you’re pretty phat to begin with (with phat meaning cool, obvs.).
2. You’re prettier than his ex.
Ummmm, OK. First of all, 99% of the time, I have never met his ex in real life. I’ve possibly stalked her on Facebook or scrolled through her Instagram, but in person? Nahhhh, ain’t nobody got time for that. Besides, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I’m sure you’re prettier. Like on a scale from 1 to 10 and 1 is you’re beautiful and 10 is you’re off the charts, you’d probably be a 22 like the Taylor Swift song.
3. Yeah, that (insert some article of clothing here) looks good on you.
Dude, I don’t know. I mean the real question here is, do you like it? Is it comfortable enough to wear to some cocktail event but still look hot in? Wait, was it expensive? See, I can’t tell you the truth. If you really like it, I won’t sink your boat and say you look ugly, sheesh. I’m not that rude.
4. OMG, yeah. That guy is totally going to ask you out!
Yeah. I can totally read minds. He answered “K” to your last text. You guys met each other at a bar drunk as shit two Fridays ago. He hasn’t texted you until now. I can see a budding romance from here. But real talk. Can you at least name one of your kids Kimberly or Kim at least? Not after Kim Kardashian obviously. After me!
5. You look hot.
No, you look slutty. I really hope you get some tonight. You look like you tried. Now by comparison with me in my high school P.E. shorts and ratty old Green Day Concert shirt from five years ago, I will now go crawl into my bed and eat hot Cheetos while watching Family Guy reruns.
6. I didn’t spread your secret!
OK, I got drunk and forgot. But I only told John! You know John. He’s our chillllllllllll best friend from freshman year! He doesn’t talk to anyone else but his frat bros. He has no other friends. Wait, shit. I’m sorry. You can tell John about the time I peed my pants at my 19th birthday party while cutting the cake ’cause I was so nervous that my crush was looking at me.