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Dear Homophobic Vending Machine:
I'm sorry my dollar bill wasn't straight enough for you. Go fuck yourself.
I found a bottle of vodka under my bed, skittles under my pillow, & boxes of noodles in my closet. I'm like a fucking alcoholic squirrel.
HR: "..16. 16 STAPLES in Diane's forehead..."
Me: "..it was the last twizzler"
Me: *eats twizzler*
Just want u all to know that I'm leaving Twitter. It's been a blast. I've made some great friends. I'll miss u all.
See u in the morning
I was mid-masturbation & thought of a good tweet. I stopped masturbating to tweet it.
This is the tweet.
Bitch, this is an elevator ride not a tea party. Stand in your corner & stop talking to me.
12 Vicodin MAY be my limit. I've been in bed for 3 hours, polishing a tomato with a dryer sheet I found hidden in the leg of my sweatpants.
If you think I'm tweeting this in the nude, you're wrong. I'm wearing a sombrero & a candy necklace.
Watched Top Chef. Got motivated. Made dinosaur chicken nuggets in the microwave. Eating them in the order they died in the food chain.
Keep your friends close & your enemies, in your trunk. Unless you're crossing a border. Then don't do that.
Life is better after having sex. Or when you know you're about to have sex. Or when you know someone wants to have sex w you.
Home alone. Drunk. In a penguin costume. Wish you were here.
My Aunt: The BEST murder weapon is an icicle. No evidence or DNA. Trust me on this.
Me: WHAT DO YOU WANT YOUR TWITTER HANDLE TO BE?!?
"This cancer is killing my body. It can NEVER take my soul, my heart. My HEART, filled w LOVE for my FAMILY, is keeping me ALIVE.."
Sometimes, I need someone there to tell me everything will be alright. Even if it won't be. Just put your arms around me, wrap me in hope.
It's like my boss doesn't even consider how much stress is involved in setting up the daily gummy bear gymnastic competition at my desk.
It's a tweet people, not your diary. Let's stay focused here.
Unrelated: I am eating a sandwich. It has cheese on it.
Politics. Subtweet. Peen avi. Poor girl is constipated. Drama. WHORE. Stoned. Sexually frustrated. BOOBS!
24 Jan 2013
I was late to work. I bought Fruit Rollups. My socks do not match. I'm no closer to my goal of owning a dragon.
The cancer we didn't know existed, is incurable. My best friend, my dad, is dying. Don't waste a MINUTE of this life!
FUCK YOU CANCER!!!!!
Vagina Enthusiast. Abortion Survivor. Sometimes, I pretend I'm an Olympic swimmer & swim in an empty tub wearing arm floaties. Sometimes, I'm not on drugs.