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Inside the mind of a writer there lives a very scary gerbil on a very scary wheel.
I would like to start a twitter trend where you reply to your own tweets as though you're having a conversation with yourself. Which I am.
I'm happy. Not rainbow and butterflies happy, but crack happy is good enough for me.
If Pollyanna had known what I know, she'd be drinking too.
I need to get coasters. And a life. But coasters first.
If social anxiety was a drug I'd be high all day every day.
An Ode to Silence:
I am officially on my friday night people. Watch me rock this couch.
If crushing garlic makes me feel powerful, imagine what I could do with a sledge hammer.
I really want to tweet "Aussie Aussie Aussie" just to see who'll tweet back "oy oy oy"
Twitter, I love you. And it's not the bourbon talking. It's the shortage of appreciation from my real life friends.
People who parade their egos on a stick, mummy really did love you.
Humanity? you seriously suck my happy.
If my body could verbalise how its feeling right now, you'd hear the distinct sound of retching. #I'mSoSexyItHurts
Some days you don't feel nearly as special as you ought to.
Being single can be lonely, but the sex is fantastic.
I'd like to fill this silence with deafening applause.
Writer/photographer, lover of snippets, bourbon and irony.