Will Smith isn’t special. I’m not invited to the Oscars for the next ten years either.
Everyone says to marry your best friend but her husband gets all pissed off whenever I suggest it.
Prior authorizations be like:
My doctor: You need this medicine.
Dr to pharmacy: She needs this medicine.
Pharmacy to insurance: Her doctor says she needs this medicine.
Insurance: Does she though? Let’s ask her doctor.
I have pepper spray and I’m not afraid to use it.
*rifles around in purse* No, that’s not it. Hold on. Can you hold this?
*hands murderer a crumpled wad of CVS receipts*
I had it right here. Maybe in the zipper part? Goddamn, why is this sock here — okay, wait —
Me: I want you inside of me.
Me: That would be a scary thing to hear if I was a bear, huh?
Him: Why are you like this?
Them: Come out with us tonight. You might meet your future husband.
Me: Why are you threatening me?
Guy sitting next to me on the plane is also scrolling twitter. Trying to scope out his @ so I can DM to ask if I can put my head on his shoulder for a nap.