My nose is running for President of my face. I'm in a grocery store, basket full of bagels, cream cheese, and juice. Tissues. God, do I need tissues. So, I go to the paper goods aisle, and begin staring down the long line of facial tissue boxes. Out of nowhere, the mostly dormant gay part of my brain says I need to get a box whose pattern
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mrowwwwwwwr
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p.s. Selina has totally never said Mrowwwwwwwr. Every meow she has is punctuated with a question mark.
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I have my birth date on my profile, contacted you personally twice to inquire, and belong to many other comms of a similar nature.
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Phew. It's been awhile since I posted a sentence in all caps. I feel better now.
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