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Our gravest hour; a meme hour.
I am home from work, tired, angry, and in need of fifteen professional hockey players with respectable and yet unprickly hockey stubble to cuddle me and make it go away. Barring that, I'm ordering takeout, but it means I have sadly got nothing here and all you get is a meme.
So.
If I came with a warning label, what would it say?
So.
If I came with a warning label, what would it say?
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:D
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Warning: This woman may become involved in a duel to the death for the cuddling of fifteen stubbly professional hockey players with
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I love that chainsaw warning.
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Yeah, so I'll be in my bunk. :D
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I'm just exited to find someone else who comes home from a bad day and turns on the hockey. *sigh*
Hey look. Tomorrow's comin'.
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(And so it is. And a lot of the bad shit about today won't be at my office tomorrow.)
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*giggles*