I love that I can do this to masks.
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Baby wanted cream cheese and olives, baby got cream cheese and olives
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Migraines suck! 😭😭 That is all... If anyone needs me I'll be hiding under my duvet with my stuffies
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Him: Hey baby, whatcha doin?
Me: Readin' 😊
Him: About what?
Me: The F22 fighter jet 😊
Him: Why? 😂
Me: 🤷♂️ it's interesting
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baby's going to bed now, baby's exhausted
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when you’re pet pet petting your sweet little baby cat on her sweet little pumpkin head but then she starts to get overstimulated and her little tail is swooshing back and forth and you can Tell all her ancient beast instincts are kicking in telling her to maul the shit out of your hand, and she looks SO forlorn because she actually wanted more cuddles but also there’s only so much a little animal can do to contain her impulses and she looks at you w the biggest wettest saddest eyes like
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I woke up with a sore throat and body aches and tried to pretend I was not getting sick.
A few hours later and I'm back in bed, totally crashing.
I need soup.
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It's fun reading writers who clearly grew up in suburban/urban environments as someone who grew up on a farm because they're always like "oh it was so creepy, woods at night, eerily breathtaking, something was living in there..." and it's like yeah that'll be the deer.
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have realized that while i am not a fan necessarily of "people meet and immediately fall in love" i am a fan of "people meet and are immediately obsessed with each other." the love can come later but the absolute fixation should be immediate
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The problem: you are Michael Bublé, it is 2011 and you would like to make a Christmas album. Your producers want you to sing the classic Christmas song "Santa, Baby," but if you sing it as intended, it's gonna come off as, like, super gay
The proposed solution: you will rewrite the lyrics to the song to imply a platonic friendship between yourself and the man in red, making Santa a real bro who's gonna help you get laid by some hunnies, with cool, masculine gifts like a steel blue convertible, a yacht and tickets to a Canadian hockey game
The reality: the combination of the eroticism of your voice and the inherently sexual vibes of the song means you create a story about a closeted gay guy desperately repressing his desire to - as the kids say - fuck that old man, no homo'ing your way through asking him to trim your tree, promising you'll be such a good boy if he treats you well, and begging him to slide down your chimney
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