caught in the crosshairs of a make-believe woman (and biscuits for breakfast)

Nutella, what the fuck? Why do you mock? Why do you pamper so, only to disregard my erection? That is a tattoo of your label. That is not a mole. I told you I got it at Icon, yeah, with Brad. I know, he is really good...well I can't get the rest of the colors done until I get the money, can I? Did you call your brother? Well then it looks like you must be a selfish bitch who doesn't want me to succeed. IS that right? Are you a...oh shit. Don't fucking cry. Don't...okay, okay, look. Look, let's just have breakfast, okay? You gonna open your lid? No? You want me to-STOP FUCKING CRYING! You want me to do it? Okay, here we-well what the FUCK then? Huh? You just wanna get fucked up again and starve? You wanna get tweaked and wind up puking at the BP again? I can't DEAL with you! See what I'm doing? I'm peeling back the cardboard, I'm pressing on the dark line with this- GODDAMMIT where are the spoons? I'm gonna wash this spoon and as soon as I get done I'm gonna dump those biscuits on the sheet and I'm not gonna TOUCH you, but by the time those biscuits come out, you better be open...okay? okay. GODDAMMIT will you at least preheat the oven? Okay.