It bugs me when people say "Can I steal a fry?" Order your own fattening shit.
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I was a size 6 once. I vaguely remember the first time I got to carry my size 6 pants to the register, feeling weak and feeble hoping I had carrots at home.
She put me on hold for what I felt was an unreasonable amount of time, I'm pretty sure Jimmy wouldn't have liked it either. I hung up.
I always end up in the kids free area of the backyard near the grill and cooler, patting the dog and wondering why my friend's husband said I had a boob job.
People think of me as a good wedding date. My guy friends see Plus One and they think "Kendra has nobody. She'll go."
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