Just finished reading a book on Stockholm Syndrome.
I really didn’t like the first couple of chapters, but by the end I loved it.
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“WHAT?? You ate the last of the cantaloupe?? This is the worst day ever!”
Can you please stop being so melondramatic.
Turns out those miniature liquor bottles aren’t for babies and now my brother says I can’t be the God Mother.
*Deletes 34 unheard voicemail messages from phone.
*Adds “extremely organized” to resume.
So I told my husband that I have a TC and he said, “that’s really cute. See if he wants to fund your shoe addiction”
Are people in Canada allowed to go oat and aboat yet?
When I die I want my tombstone to say free WiFi so people will visit more often. I will also name the network “HELP, I’M STILL ALIVE!”
I have on my new shoes today. They are so cute, and comfortable, as long as I don’t stand in them or walk in them.
Being a mother is really quite rewarding.
At tax time.
I like to refer to what gravity has done to my body as the rise and fall of the Roman Empire.