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So remember how I was gonna take my awesome intern to lunch? Well we made it a group thing.

I went to lunch with my awesome co-worker who is gorgeous and wonderful in every way. She had a pizza and soup. She looked immaculate before lunch and looked immaculate after. She is wearing a white lacey dress thing and it is spotless. Her hair is flawless. Like a supermodel stepping off a runway. She could literally walk into a Justin Timberlake video right now and fucking own it. She ate a big, sloppy, goopy, messy pizza and she still looks perfect.


I had a bowl of soup and some calamari.

I am wearing half a bowl of soup on the front of my shirt. There are crumbs all over everything I am wearing and now crumbs are on my desk. I smell like marinara sauce. I just found ranch dressing smeared on my pants. I don't think we even ordered anything with ranch dressing. There is so much that fell down into my shirt, too. I have calamari in my cleavage.

This is the entirety of my life, summarized as an experience eating at an Olive Garden. I am Burt's smelly shirt, covered in Olive Garden food.

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