Offended over dinner

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. My kindergarten teacher repeated this often, and it's stuck with me through life. And if you ask me, someone needs to tell this timeless piece of advice to fortune cookies. Yes, tell those cookies. More than once I've gotten fortunes that make you wonder if whoever wrote them was just setting out to ruin a stranger's day. Even if a message doesn't necessarily predict luck, I would hope, at least, that it would be something hopeful, or an optimistic outlook for the future. Not always so, my little lamb chops. Once, when Ashley and I ordered Chinese for dinner, my cookie essentially told me I have no standards. Isn't that a bit presumptuous? I wasn't expecting to be called promiscuous or direction-less by a tiny (arrogant) slip of paper enclosed in a stale sugar crisp. But tonight, my jaw literally dropped as I sat with my brothers after finishing our meal. I eagerly cracked open the fortune cookie and unraveled the fortune. It read:

Love or money..
or neither?

What the hell? Thanks for predicting that I will have neither of life's greatest happinesses. You know what? Go to hell, fortune cookie. Who asked you anyway? I suppose technically I did, but you don't have to be such a twit about it.