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Combine the following: Top Gun-esque Aviators, leather jacket that screams BADASS, jeans that- let's be honest- could be tighter, a hip baby sling, and a chubby-cheeked nugget that is giving the camera an eat-shit-and-die look (seriously, I imagine her saying, 'bitches, what are you lookin' at?'), and what do you get?
Me. Drooling on the floor. And Joe. Contemplating where he can get a chunky baby with a bad attitude from.*
**He stops thinking this thought quickly, because he soon realizes that if it's my child, it'll most definitely come out of the womb saying bitches.
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