Does anybody else’s grandma
collect used clothes from their friends and then call you at work and tell you to come over for fried chicken and look at the clothes to see if you want any and then you go and you sift through a garbage bag of humungous jackets with shoulder pads and stretch waist pants while being force fed “zuchini bars” that look like poop?
No? Just mine. Alright.
My Grandma is DEAD!
(she never did that though)
(no disrespect intended, GM <3)
