Bakery = breakfast. Breakfast = coffee.
splinterview
splinterview
Good grief. You and Chef Queef sound like you must be around that age. At 21 you're convinced you are an adult, which sure, by law you are. But you've only been out of your parents house for a couple of years, are still very wet behind the ears and you're not even old enough to rent a fucking car.
Oh god all the feels.
I dated a narcissist. I know people say that a lot, but I really did, and Esposito's words could be my own. Unfortunately, I didn't get a spiritual retreat to help me heal after our breakup—just lots of cheap wine and long talks with my sister.
I have a random dislike of him as well... I really think it's instinct, seriously. Plus btw as a French speaker, can I just add that his French is really not so good? There. Said it.
I've never liked him. I don't think he's a good actor and I don't find his dead eyed smirk cute. To me he resembles a shark.
Not to mention how awful it would make me feel about myself to have to watch (presumably) super skinny women flaunt their bodies in my face while I am eating a HUGE meal.
Why on earth would I (a straight woman) want to watch scantily clad women while I'm trying to enjoy a burger? That sounds like just the thing to cause me to loose my appetite. Are they even trying?
Poop is a food, as evidenced by one of our dog's fondness for it.
My Dori demands the HIGHEST quality of paper, toilet paper, cotton balls, cake mixes, Cold-Eezz cough drops from my husband's bag, bagels she's pulled off the counter, discarded dryer sheets and what appeared to be a Apple Remote.
I see Blue Buffalo AND Purina, lists none of those things on their bags. I demand…
When I was a kid, my mother had me doing laundry, dishes, vacuuming, cooking or gardening everyday—if there was work to be done around the house, I was expected to pitch in. I was not allowed to slack or be lazy with my chores. If I dared asked "mom can you wash this" the sound of laughter emitting from her would have…
Hexane is all natural.
If I take all of the makeup I buy in a year with colors that are not quite right, $300 is a mere pittance.
A lack of attention to detail, like spelling in a presentation (or resume) to me, is troubling.
A smart person pitching an idea before an audience should be smart enough to know to proofread their presentation materials. No one is expected to be perfect. Even the best writers make errors, which is why everyone benefits from an editor.
I know, I was like twelve hours? After twelve hours I'm sick of my husband's company half the time. A stranger who's desperately trying to get his money's worth by instagramming twelve hours of our date? Double the price.
Just so everyone is clear, you spent a FUCKLOAD of time yesterday arguing that the assignment, Was the Holocaust a Hoax, was a "critical thinking exercise" and today you are arguing FOR the banning of books?
You think angry dad regulates his daughter's TV viewing like he does her reading? I've seen racier shit on ABC family.
urg. I'm having a horrible middle school flashback to the time when guys sent around a sheet grading the girls in class and I got Fs. I know in my head that the whole thing is bad, but it's 100 times worse if you're not one of the hot girls.