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The City:"How do ya like living in me?" Me:"Heaps of fun!" City: "I can, uh, see you've been enjoying the take-out options." Me: "Dicktard."
You guys are just waiting for me to get drunk and tweet about my breasts, aren't you? ANSWER ME.
Snackin' on chocolate chips. Have we dropped any? I guess we'll know tomorrow when it'll be time to play another round of "TASTE THE STAIN"
There's something about a bowl of sugary breakfast cereal at 11:30pm that makes me want 3 more bowls of sugary breakfast cereal at 11:35.
Real quick, when your bdrm ceiling fan falls on your head do you tweeze the shards of glass out of your skin before or after you cry-vomit?
Mama said there'll be gays that hiss. There'll be gays that hiss, Mama said.
Q-Tip. He used to rap. He used to rap himself around a little cardboard stick and clean my ears motherfucker. This isn't funny, is it.
Shimmery self-tanner? Check. Overszed sunglasses? Check. Sexy yet effortless outfit? Check. Project "Buy Tampons @ Boystown Whole Foods" GO!
Found a special setting on our new showerhead. It puts the "FUN" in "Holy shit Mother of Christ that's good."
Question: When you try to trim up_down there_and instead give yourself a full-blown pussy mullet... well, that's fricken awesome, right?
It hurts to scrunch my nose and it hurts to pick my nose. NOW WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ALL NIGHT?
A tweet about stupid people with a glaring, angry misspelling. Irony, you are a dick sometimes.
I just ate a PB candy. Yup. I'm dangerous like that... SALMONELLA is my middle name. I mean, DANGER is my various nut butters. Dammit, what?
Do you ever want to rub Howie Mandel's face all wild and violent between your breasts just to watch him cry? Right. Me neither.
This hair glossing spray smells like a Barbie queef.
Lola (age 5) singing: "FOUR UNPORCHANANT SOULS! SO SAD! SO TRUE!"
I would make out with every single one of you right now. This basically means: I've hit vodka limit for the hour
My lunch= Plain oatmeal and unsweetened green tea. My lunch= The bland leading the bland.
Bought a sexy, slinky, black robe... It'll be easier to brush the Pepperidge Farm crumbs off my crotch now. Heh. Crotch crumbs. Hot.
This whole 'basic human need for companionship' rigmarole is making me rashy. Whoawhoawhoa, wait, not like tha... oh God, here we go again.