Erica Albright:
You called me a bitch on the Internet, Mark.
Mark Zuckerberg:
That's why I wanted to talk to you.
Erica Albright:
On the Internet.
Mark Zuckerberg:
That's why I came over.
Erica Albright:
Comparing women to farm animals.
Mark Zuckerberg:
I didn't end up doing that.
Erica Albright:
It didn't stop you from writing it. As if every thought that tumbles through your head was so clever it would be a crime for it not to be shared. The Internet's not written in pencil, Mark, it's written in ink. And you published that Erica Albright was a bitch, right before you made some ignorant crack about my family's name, my bra size, and then rated women based on their hotness.
Reggie:
Erica, is there a problem?
Erica Albright:
[Turning to talk to Reggie]
No, there's no problem.
Erica Albright:
[Turning back to face Mark]
You write your snide bullshit from a dark room because that's what the angry do nowadays. I was nice to you, don't torture me for it.
Mark Zuckerberg:
If we could just go somewhere for a minute.
Erica Albright:
I don't want to be rude to my friends.
Mark Zuckerberg:
Okay.
Erica Albright:
Okay.
[pauses for a moment]
Erica Albright:
Good luck with your video-game.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 09:36
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