What’s that old saying? You never know what you miss till it’s gone….
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WTH Canada? I thought you were our nice neighbors to the north.
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Just… wow. More vomit bags is not suitable compensation. Nope. Uh uh.
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Yes. It’s not because I’m lazy and don’t want to tackle that mountain of laundry. It’s genetic.
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I have a lot of ideas on this topic. Too much screen time, junk television, the quality of our leadership, social media … but turns out it’s just collective intelligence. We don’t need to know everything, we can just ask someone else.
They say don’t knock it till you’ve tried it… but I’m going to pass on that particular experience.
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I blog more than anyone I know, but even I don’t need that.
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To hell with music, fame and the rest… I just want to know where she got the seeds for that fabulous garden.
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72%? Sure, that’s close enough for surgery. A 28% chance of losing something vitally important seems worth the risk.
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Turns out it does. Men are thrilled and claiming the heatwaves covering half the country have increased the size of their members. For these overly proud men… I have one word.
Thermoregulation.
Winter is going to be such a disappointment.
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I should know better than to click on penis stories.
If this is what passes for television these days I’m glad I rarely watch it… but my first thought when reading the headline was the fact that I used to have a gynecologist who always asked me how things were “down there” when I stepped in her office. She misdiagnosed me for 2 years which resulted in me having to undergo a full abdominal hysterectomy. I should have known. If you’re unable to say the words uterus and vagina? You shouldn’t be treating them.
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While colorful … I’m taking a hard pass here and doubt anyone will be upset if I don’t bring this to the next potluck.
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With the price of real estate these days? This is a steal.
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I’m not on Tik Tok and rarely pay attention to their ridiculous trends…. but are their women who are seriously contemplating douching with borax?
All the news that’s not fit to print… but you know I will anyway.
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Sorry, if I had to see it… so do you.
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Gee, no. I can’t imagine that happening. You mean a programmed robotic fiancé who agrees with everything you say and finds your belching the National anthem charming isn’t realistic?
Who knew.
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Can you imagine living next to that Pepto Bismol monstrosity? I’d vomit on principle alone.
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Here’s a simple way… don’t buy them.
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For a society that always screams about invasion of privacy we’re pretty willing to hand over all our information.
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Be careful what you say in front of Teddy.
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.