Some Glorified mud

So last week I came home with a bagful of Chanel facial creams. Don’t worry, I didn’t steal them; one of my job perks is that I can get this stuff with an employee discount (uh-uh, sorry, can’t hook you up, so don’t bother asking). I was all excited and showed my heavily discounted treasure to Andreas, expecting a standing ovation or at least a pat on the back for a shopping spree well done. But what do I get? A less than impressed, “So you got a discount on some glorified mud, eh? Congratulations.”

Pff, men just don’t get it.

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