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Cranky complaints

Come join, if you please.

I’m sick of sleeping on my side. I don’t want to sleep on my side. It sucks. I want to sleep on my back, but noooooo blah blah blah something baby something. Mr. Carbs has literally taken to rolling my over when I accidentally end up on my back (I love him and hate him for doing this).

Laundry. Sucks. If we were rich, I’d spend money to have someone take care of that shit for me. And every time, every DAMN TIME, I get a new shirt or dress and wear it for the first time, I end up with and oil stain. Cue the tedious cornstarch and dishwasher soap cleaning method.


I want a fucking Italian sub. No mortadella. Provolone cheese. Lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, EXTRA hots, oil and vinegar. And no I don’t want it heated up or toasted. It’s a COLD cut sandwich.

Carry on.

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