I get that maybe you're trying to be funny, but...this is a 3 year old you're mocking online. What the actual fuck?

God that's awful, because she's a surrogate BY MISTAKE NEGLECT, not by her own consent.

I can't even imagine. The decisions involved: whether to continue the pregnancy, raise the babies as her own, try and find out if someone else is carrying the embryo(s) developed from her or her donor's egg, discuss whether they should swap the babies post-birth...the whole thing is going to be a mess.

Considering that Weir has physically abused Voronov in the past, and that his own descriptions of their relationship suggest that it's emotionally volatile, their getting back together is probably not for the best.

It's a jump rope skipping chant.

Oooh! I just finished "In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts". Such a good book!

Ha! My mother once ate curried cauliflower, and the ensuing farts made the cat go hide in the closet.

I don't know what that means?

That's why I eat cheese! And because it's delicious.

Haha I think it goes both ways, but honestly, it's mostly me locked in with the German Shepherd that enjoys jumping up at my 5'3 frame while snapping her jaws, or the Jack Russell that shits into the fence who bit me when I had to stop him trying to kill another male JRT yesterday, or the Border Collie who knows he's…

Aww, shucks. *blushes, scuffs shoe*

The dogs, or the farting without shame?

This dog doesn't play, he only sleeps. But he's not overweight, and ma'am, we can't change your dog's essential nature of being a lazy layabout. Just don't bother bringing him in, you're wasting your money, and your employer's time by watching the cameras and bitching to us about your dog sleeping.

Yesterday, we had an occasionally attending dog come in, with instructions from the owner to not let him sleep, because that's not what she's paying us for.

Hahaha thanks, but I'd prefer a nice bottle of chardonnay!

Hahahaha it's not a secret if I'm the one airing it out!

HAHAHAHA read my other comments on this post

Yeah, my farts are near silent anyway, and the constant barking masks whatever sounds escape.

Farting without shame and hanging out with dogs are literally the only good parts of my job. I'm not allowed to sit down, my coworkers and managers get on my nerves on a near-daily basis, and I have to stop dogs from humping each other and eating shit all day.

I work with people who don't know how to use a copy machine. I'm going to grad school in the fall. DON'T CARE IF THEY KNOW.