Why the hell had that stupid bin at Junes been in the middle of the aisle where somebody with big-ass feet would go trip face-first on the linoleum just to get helped up by some old geezer who thanks your for sewing up long-johns and then patting you on the head in front of your kind of, sort of older sister?
The kind of sort of older sister telling you how many wonderful things you've done for everyone is just blush icing on the total embarrassment cake.
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The kind of sort of older sister telling you how many wonderful things you've done for everyone is just blush icing on the total embarrassment cake.