Finally, you have someone you can beat at "Got Your Nose," at least for a year or so. You develop a liking for mini vans, sensible shoes, and a deep-seated contempt for Michael Jackson. You're not so tolerant of strangers asking to touch your round little belly anymore now that you are just FAT. Good-bye, Happy Hour--Hello, Happy Meal!! Junior looks adorable in his little "sandbox," but the cat is seriously torqued about it. For efficiency, your paycheck is now direct-deposited to Disney. You come to the realization that caca comes in a rainbow of lovely colors. |
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