Noooooo! Anything but the pliers.
I don’t care about your ribs. Suck in harder!
“These jeans” don’t give you camel toe. Your fat ass does.
Seriously, even porn stars don’t get this up-close and personal with vaginas.
No! You don’t get to sit down.
Keep holding your breath. It will keep air and food out.
Did your feet get bigger too?
HOLY SHIT! A cookie?! Really!?
Sorry, but it’s your “just one bite” theory that got us into this problem in the first place.
Your thong just died.
I think we should breakup. It’s not right. It’s just not right.
Maybe you should put your fat ass in the dryer. That always makes me shrink.
Speaking of dryers, wash me already—that’s like the 6th time that baby threw up on me.
I must warn the other jeans in the closet. They don’t deserve this.
I don’t care if we’re in public, pull me out of your ass right now! RIGHT NOW!
Great. I just busted a seam.
You’re officially “that woman” who shouldn’t be wearing “those jeans.”
Yes, underwear adds extra material but please, whatever you do… don’t go commando.
Thank god for scissors.
Cut my legs off. It’s the only way.
Whew! Separated at last. Wait, why does it look like you’re still wearing me?
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