She hadn't offended Sid. Although it didn't take a lot for him to get offended, this was just one of those times that he was so bloody desperate to know why someone would hate him so much as to throw him into the maw of Los Angeles than to care about whether he should be offended enough.
Glancing over at the glass, he took it from her with a small nod. "Thanks." He lifted the glass to his mouth, took a long sip and the end result was a lovely milk mustache that spread up to his nose. If one were to meet each of his friends whilst they were simultaneously drinking milk, they would notice that it wasn't just a "Sid" thing to have a milk mustache. Home. Of course someone would ask him about home. And true to Sidney Jenkins fashion, he was quite glad to complain about his home life. "Well, in retrospect I didn't really leave anyone behind. But I did, y'know? I mean, by dad doesn't care. He's just a Scottish bastard with Scottish bastard relatives who love to head butt me in the stomach and wear making sleep wear." Tipping his head slightly, he inspected the glass.
"There's Tony. But he got hit by a bus six months ago and has been fucked in the head ever since. Cassie, well you know about Cassie. Then there's Michelle, I dunno.. I guess she's my friend. You never hear from her. Don't know what she's doin' My mum's kind of.. she's off shagging some German guy who by the way, really needs to take a look in the mirror and I'm pretty sure that guy who I borrowed 3 pounds of spliff from is still out to kill me." When he got going, he could really get going. The one thing he didn't realize though was, that while he was bagging his own father he didn't know that he was actually dead, back in his real world.