I love each and every one of my porn-bots. Except for the one who wants me to lose weight quickly. She's a bitch.

If you're reading this, you're probably on Twitter.

Jon Bon Jovi seems to be slowly morphing into Kevin Bacon.

Why does favstar send a notification for 42 stars? (not that I know from experience, of course.) What a weird number to congratulate for.

I really wish I liked pot. I need something to make me like my kids.

So Mississippi has only one abortion clinic. I'll just leave you to mull over all that is wrong with that statement.

The best I've ever done is a 3-star tweet. Either you guys aren't paying attention or I suck. Sigh...who am I kidding, I suck.

Moist is a disgusting word.

I'm told my Twitter absence has been noticed. Not because of my great tweets, sadly, but I'll take it.

When I created this account, it didn't occur to me not to use my real name. Now my family can find me on here. Idiot.

Why is it that my text messages are, at most, 40 characters, but I have to edit my tweets to get them into the 140 max?

I hate when I read a great tweet but can't retweet because they typed your instead of you're. #idiots

All these months on Twitter and I still don't know what a subtweet is. Slow learner.

The 20 inch waist woman is not one of the #10sexiestfemales. My 20 inch WRIST is sexier than that...ugh!

Is this about my muscular, thick thighs?

In honor of Autism Awareness Month, another gem from my son: "Mondays are not my cup of coffee."

My friends have the ugliest children. Seriously. Like so bad I can't even pretend to think they're cute and hit the like button.

Call me evil, but I love watching someone realize they've been dumped via Facebook.

So many funny people on Twitter and yet it's George Lopez who gets a show.

I'm considering unfollowing anyone who says the words "twitter crush."