Of course, I don't mean those words in their true sense. I mean them in the way teen bride and absolute terror Courtney did when she wailed them down the phone in a flood of tears to her 20-year-old fiance Brad on an episode of Bride and Prejudice.
If you don't know what Bride and Prejudice is, it's an Aussie reality dating show that follows couples planning to wed, but whose family disapprove of their relationship.
The latest season features an 18-year-old who acts like a reincarnated version of Chris Lilley's infamous self-obsessed schoolgirl Ja'mie, only Courtney comes with a Clairol home kit and a Kylie Jenner lip situation.
Like Ja'mie, she demands a level of luxury that is out of proportion to her personal economic status. When her unreasonable demands aren't met, she unleashes on the person who dared to say no.
And she has an unjustified sense of entitlement that can only be acquired after years of watching those Kardashian girls eat salads in their mum's kitchen.
If Ja'mie wasn't an inner-Sydney private schoolgirl and was instead plonked in the suburbs with a goal to marry young, she'd be Courtney.
Armed with an iPhone and a Snapchat account, Courtney has decided she wants to marry her on-again-off-again boyfriend Brad and document it all on the Channel Seven reality series.
Brad's mum objects to the union but that only makes Courtney want to do it more.
So Brad has proposed. Whether he wanted to is a different question. Sometimes submission is better than the repercussions.
"I know everyone thinks she's a b*tch but I've learnt to deal with it," Brad said this week of his future wife.
This week, we've seen him follow Courtney's careful demands and purchase a custom-made $11,500 ring. I'm nervous my Visa will be rejected every time I swipe it at Coles, so don't ask me where a 20-year-old got that kind of cash.
On Wednesday night, we witness Courtney hit her stride as she flips out over Brad's bucks party. And it's all to do with imaginary strippers.
When Brad's brother jokes about taking him to see some girls, girls, girls, Courtney fails to see the humour through the haze of neon lights.
"If you see a stripper I'm literally not gonna marry you. That's disgusting," she says as her fake nails tap against the cracked screen of her iPhone.
She then drops a threat that, when spat by a teen girl, instils fear in even the most sensible of adults: "I WILL LITERALLY. RUIN. YOUR. LIFE."
Treading with caution, Brad cabs it to Kings Cross to have a few drinks with his dorky mates at the pub.
Courtney opts to stay at home and organise a masseuse with her bridesmaid Petchi. I'm taking a total stab in the dark with the spelling on that name. I feel confident in saying her real name is probably Patty but she's just jazzed it up for Instagram.
It doesn't take long for Courtney to spiral into an irrational frenzy at the thought of strippers and she furiously taps away at her iPhone as she wages a text-war with her fiance.
"There are girls. They've got girls talking to them at the bar. I'm literally not getting married.
I'm literally not doing it. That's just f***ed up," she tells Petchi, who remains facedown on the massage table.
"Like, I'm literally not doing it. I'm literally not doing it. I'm literally not doing it. I'm literally NOT doing it. I'm not doing it."
She paces around the living room, working herself up about a situation that doesn't exist, before calling Brad and going into meltdown.
"Who the f*** are you talking to?" she accuses. "Why is there all this music? Where are you? There's girls - I can hear f***ing girls. We are DONE, we are DONE, we are DONE."
Angry teenage girls should not be messed with. A lot of people don't know this, but the lock out laws in Sydney were actually put in place because of increased violence but also teen girls with a vengeance.
Brad knows this. And he acts fast.
"Can we get the f***k out of here quick?" he says, running down Williams Street.