Fuck OKCupid, I’ll just swap out my baking powder brand!


I can’t help but feel that there is an unreasonably high amount of expectation placed on this poor foodstuff. I can hear its plaintive squeaky voice trying to warn against the dangers of placing all your eggs in the “dreamy look” basket while some crazed twenty five year old “middle aged” spinster whips batter in a bowl screaming “SHUT UP. THIS IS GOING TO WORK. I NEED A MAN, ANY MAN, AND YOU’RE GOING TO FUCKING HELP ME.”


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