I think you do.

Sometimes I think my genius is wasted on you, Ivy.
You talk like me for a full day. Slurs, slang, swears, the whole nine yards... and you hafta post on your journal, too. Just doin' it in class ain't enough.
If it makes you feel better, I'll do the same thing, only I'll be talkin' like a delicate ladyflower all day. First one to slip up loses.