I Demand You Take My Son off the Naughty List, Santa!
It pains me to think that the childhood I’ve carefully constructed for Trevin could come crashing down, all due to the ramifications of your bullying.
It pains me to think that the childhood I’ve carefully constructed for Trevin could come crashing down, all due to the ramifications of your bullying.
My mom mailed me back my matching pajama set with a note, “Don’t bother wearing our family Christmas pajamas unless you ask for something fun."
The man who I had married, the man who I’d seen get into a shoving match with a JV baseball coach, had become something unrecognizable.
This thing we call "life" is really just a painfully drawn out, cosmic joke. And I can’t tell if that’s what’s causing the bulge around my waistline.
To help bring in the younger audience, the flock is now allowed to respond to “The Lord be with you” with “OK boomer.”
I noticed that you already posted those vacation photos online, but the evidence of just how wealthy your family is magneted to my fridge is a treat!
We’ve got a bunch of food, drinks, and activities lined up that will shed an honest light on a lot of stuff you actually probably suspected already.
And what about that day I wore my ORGASM DONOR t-shirt and kept asking everyone in her family if they wanted to find out if they were a match?
Like Bruce Banner turns into The Hulk when he gets angry, I turn into Glargor whenever the concentration of Vitamin D in my blood dips below 15 ng/ml.
Spending the night with your wife is now HAVING A SLEEPOVER WITH YOUR BESTIE. Dinner dates are now EATING WINGS WHILE YOU GOSSIP ABOUT NON-BESTIES.
Next you’re going to tell me that you don’t remember William Molineux organizing prominent Whig meetups at the Old South Meeting House.
I am overwhelmed with reports I have to finish, so I need someone smart to finish them, but not smart enough that my boss knows it’s not from me.