Me: Hello.

Him: Hey. 

Me: Why do you look the way you do? 

Him: Excuse me? 

Me: I mean, like, you don’t really look normal.

Him: That’s pretty offensive, man. 

Me: Why is that?

Him: Because who the fuck are you? I ask you, who the fuck are you to set standards of normalcy in appearance. Just because you’re a generic nobody who looks like every other suburban idiot doesn’t mean I have to comply to your standards of normalcy. That’s a progressive 2016 hitting you in the face. Get a grip of yourself, you stereotyping asshole. 

Me: Okay. I’m sorry if I offended you. But I was just acknowledging how you stand out from the rest of the crowd. 

Him: Okay. I’ll allow that. 

Me: So were you born like this? I’m sorry, do you mind if I take a photo of you to show my readers? 

Him: Sure. 

Below is a photo of Mr. Waffle Cone. 

Him: To answer your question, I wasn’t born like this. You see, all I ever really wanted to be was a waffle cone. Then I became one. And it’s pretty awesome to be honest. Also, since you asked me my opinion on women, I think women should stay in their limits and handle children the way my lovely mom did. I love you, ma! 

Me: I never asked you about women. 

Him: Huh, what are you, a faggot? 

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