Let’s just knock this out, I don’t have all day.
Man, I am SO sick of your shit right now.
Are you sick of my other bodily excretions as well?
What’s your major malfunction?
Yeah, well, I’ve had it up to here with you.
That’s too bad, I enjoy the NARF!
You haven’t even STARTED to see the full range of shit I’m capable of.
What do I care what you think? You’re not my real dad!
Deja Poo…I’ve seen this shit before!
You keep using that phrase. I do not think it means what you think it means. 
Oh, you think that was shit? Buckle up buttercup, because you have not BEGUN to see real shit!
Oh yeah? Bring it on, tough guy. Come on.
Please don’t hit me. I’m your biggest fan.
I really hope you’re holding your flat hand well above your head!
I’m sorry, there was only one five pound bag left. I tried to fit it all in there. I’m sorry.
Oh GOD! If I had my whole life to live over again, I’d NEVER have kids!
Are you sick of my shit because every time I scratch my ear I have to smell my finger, say “wow, that smells awful,” and then sniff it again or is it because I keep messing up the lyrics to songs when I sing them off key?
We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you would just LISTEN to me once in awhile!!
Mom was right about you.
So is the fecal matter in contact with the rotating blades yet?
Are you talking to the guy who killed your father?
Oops, did I drop that? And right on your new shoes, too.
My shit just never stops.