Crabby Bitch Face Whore Mouth

There is this girl at work.
She is a married, mother of a one year old daughter.
Crabby Bitch Face Whore Mouth is what I call her if she doesn’t gets her cool-aid.
Her cool-aid usually comes in the form of any stimulant whether it be coffee, nicotine or a fat pig-snort of cocaine off a baby’s back. She is so dependant on stimulants that anytime she is not taking the nerve altering substances down her gullet, she throws up hate on everything and everyone.
Sometimes I wonder about her.
She can be as bright and dark as a razor.
Speaking of, the other day, she took a subtle interest in a conversation about Cutters. I asked her what she thought about it. The red face told me all I needed to know. Now, I tease her every chance I get. I turn every conversation back to the Cut.
"Can you pass me a pen" she'll ask.
To which I reply, "Sorry, but how bout this razor. We'll just make your skin my notepad today."
"Why are people such idiots" she'll scream.
"Does that make you want to cut" I'll needle.
"Hey fucktard, what are you eating today"
"I was thinking of ordering some Razor Whore Salad"
After much ball-busting, she finally admitted that she thinks about it sometimes. It was a real conversation. Neither of us held back.
Now, everyday, I obsess about violating her.