By my own definition, I am not a bitch. I believe that a bitch is a truly mean-spirited person who enjoys inflicting emotional pain and suffering on others. By many other people’s definition though, I’m a HUGE bitch.
Whenever the couple I’m being tagged along with goes for a shopping spree, I would offer help on carrying their purchases so they could hold hands while walking. I don’t think of it as a form of slavery; I just have to make sure the couple spends quality time with each other and carrying shopping bags spoils that moment.
This state smells exactly the same way it looks — like a penis.
I swear if you use your spatula to make another pile of rice shaped into a heart look like it’s beating I’m going to take a dump on the grill.
Call your grandma, she’s bound to tell you she loves you.
I had essentially beaten every one of these tweenagers with an aching heart. I had won the prize. I had won Jonathan Taylor Thomas.
You love wine, like, you’d rather die than not drink wine.
Life has a way of working things out.
This is no small issue.