Naming my future sons Theodore, Reagan, and George Walker. TSM.

Don’t expect me to get on my knees unless I can clearly see yours. TSM.

Every time my GDI roommate walks out of our room with her houndstooth cap on I die a little inside. TSM.

Mom had our interior designer decorate for the Halloween party at my apartment then gave me a blank check so I could have an open bar for 20 of my closest friends. TSM.

I don’t want to go to a dog shelter because my puppy might be an off-brand. TSM.

Plans fell through with sisters to drive to The Cocktail Party so I decided to take the private plane instead. I mean, I bought a Georgia hairbow for the game. I have to use it. TSM.

No GDI, my frat daddy and I’s pure bread lab is NOT wearing a “cute flower collar”… her Lilly Pulitzer collar costs more than your fake handbag. TSM.

We call the family dog “The Little Democrat.” When people ask why, we tell them he’s lazy and is always begging for a handout. TSM.

Sweetie, you can put awful, fake looking highlights in; pay way too much for those terrible acrylics; buy as many pairs of cheap sunglasses as you want. But you still drive a forever old Pontiac Grand Prix and you’ll always be a GDI. TSM.