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Your bedroom eyes are being canceled out by your kitchen body.
I'll admit, quitting Twitter was good for me; I was productive and took care of myself.
But I'm sorry, that's just not who I am as a person
By looking at you I knew you were geeky and not my type.
Now that you're closer and blasting Euro-Techno, I'm compelled to step on you.
Blank stares, glassy eyes, incomprehensible speech..
Yep, just another average day with my students.
A therapist once told me to practice my breathing every time I take a Xanax.
Sufficed to say I'm now an excellent breather.
Tweeting in a 15 MPH school zone. No, don't worry, I don't have kids.
I have a Master's degree in education; I can now say I'm smart enough to hit the gym and kick-start my stripping career.
Watching Hoarders always gives me the peace to put off cleaning yet another day.
However I'm frantic because I can no longer find the T.V.
It's difficult keeping up with the crazy tweets you guys come up with; I'm just normal.
I don't eat feces or rape horses.
Just ate a slice of Swiss cheese on the toilet while peeing.
Gross yes, but I assure you I thoroughly washed the finger that got peed on.
I heard leaving a little on your plate after eating you'll lose weight.
Was hard, but after licking the plate around that bean, I left it.
On the side of a van: Small Package Delivery Service.
I know there's a joke in there somewhere other than the poor sap in the driver's seat
There's a fine line between your pants when you have a camel toe.
That girl's boobs are even making me feel uncomfortable.
You can only buy that kind of power.
Student just asked me who Brad Pitt was.
Shocking, I know.
I spend hours, days, weeks imparting this knowledge and they retain nothing.
Declined a date in an effort to not look desperate.
I now have time to star tweets of people who don't follow hoping they'll notice.
Lately I feel like I'm just not fitting in...
Life, Twitter, my pants, my car...
Boy: I've got feelings and she hurt them all.
Me: Don't worry now, surely with your low IQ and poor genes things will be much worse later.
All the money I've spent on Victoria's Secret push-up bras could have landed me real fake boobs.
My tweets are my property.
To steal them means you are violating the Unintellectual Property Law.