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The womb is like the original all-inclusive resort. Free rent, free food, and you don't even have to tip the amniotic fluid maintenance crew. It's like a vacation, but with a strict check-out policy.
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The womb is basically the ultimate 9-month subscription box. You're in there, getting all these nutrients, experiencing mood swings, and just waiting for that surprise package at the end called "birth.
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The womb is the ultimate VIP lounge. You got room service 24/7, your own personal soundtrack of muffled heartbeats, and there's even a bouncer (the placenta) making sure no riff-raff gets in.
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You ever think about how the womb is the first co-working space? You're in there with your sibling, elbowing for space, trying not to disturb the neighbors (mom), and hoping the snacks are delivered on time.
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The womb is like the original Airbnb. You're in there, cozy and warm, and then suddenly you're kicked out with a "thanks for staying, leave the amniotic fluid key on the way out." It's like, couldn't I get a late checkout at least?
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You know, in the womb, you're just floating around, doing your thing, and then suddenly you're evicted into this world with gravity and bills. Talk about a rough landing.
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The womb is like a silent disco. You're in there, enjoying the beats of the outside world, and then suddenly you're thrust into a world where people argue over the best music genres. Can't we all just vibe?
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You ever think about the womb? It's like the original tiny house. You're in there, thinking you're living large, and suddenly you're evicted into this noisy, overpriced apartment called life.
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The womb is like a reverse escape room. You spend nine months trying to find your way out, and when you finally do, people throw a party and take pictures. It's like, "Congrats, you escaped! Smile for the camera!
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