But it did. 
My life is pretty much a hundred times worse than hell.
And it's all thanks to my fucking bitch cousins.

Ok, so, I like cake. 
It's not my fault its so fucking delicious.... and creamy.... and sweet. Stick me in a room with a cake and I pretty much go nuts. 
So you can imagine how hard birthday parties are for me. All that waiting while the cake is cut... and placed on serviettes... and handed to me.
Obviously my cousins are not aware of my serious medical condition. 
So when a huge, marbled chocolate and vanilla cake was wheeled out. I was already pretty antsy. And I got antsier and antsier as the cake was cut verrrryyyyy slowwwwwllly and was then handed out. 
I could feel the rage boiling up inside of me. The cake was right there. God, how I wanted it. Needed it. Yearned for it. 
And those dumb bitches just kept passing the cake to other people.
So, naturally, with Hulk-like fury I screamed at them 'I EXIST YOU KNOW!'
I was angry.
But not angry enough to leave the cake.
So I sat there. And I ate that cake.
Yum.
But my cousins are still fucking bitches.