I have an ex who was a self-described jar goblin and fancied herself a witch. Somehow, she couldn’t conjure up a fucking job the entire time we were together. I keep as few jars in my home as possible now, and I use the two little heart-handled spoons she left behind when she moved as solely to scoop wet cat food from the tin because fuck her.
The trick is to save many jars of the stuff, so you can really go out in style.
I have an ex who was a self-described jar goblin and fancied herself a witch. Somehow, she couldn’t conjure up a fucking job the entire time we were together. I keep as few jars in my home as possible now, and I use the two little heart-handled spoons she left behind when she moved as solely to scoop wet cat food from the tin because fuck her.
I’m sorry for your pain, but I laughed out loud at this. Guffawed, even.
Okay, okay, you had to get that out, right? Better now?