Life's a bitch

Being Coleen’s friend, part three: The phone calls

From the exact same people who brought you Being Coleen’s friend, part one: The secret agony and Being Coleen’s friend, part two: Step aside, everyone

As established, it’s not easy being Coleen’s friend. She makes you feel badly dressed with her smooth sense of style, she’ll happily barge in and destroy your big day, and she berates lowly McDonalds workers for not having lobster on the menu. Presumably.

But even worse than all of the above are her intrusive phone calls at all hours of the day/night. In the above picture, she is lounging around in a stateside swimming pool, casually phoning one of her pals to brag about how boiling hot it is, and how much money she just spent on lunch. All the while ignoring that it’s the middle of the night in dreary old Blighty, and the sad voice at the end of the line needs to be up at 7am to trudge to their lowly day job, praying that something exciting might happen for once. Please, just anything. Even something bad.

These drop-everything-and-listen-to-my-incessant-boasting phone calls can take place anywhere from twelve times a day, to not at all for three months. It all depends whether Coleen can be bothered to like you any more.


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