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Only the shampoo bottles understand me.
In the shower is where I politely turn down women imaginarily hitting on me, on the grounds that I’m married irl.
Hey it’s the weird lady who hates coconut milk
Goddamnit…why do my arguments never go as planned.
I feel personally attacked. Are you me? What’s even going on?
They applaud my originality, where I had time between then and now to think of a comeback.
Me, the next shower, when I lost one IRL.
