Favstar gets even better if you sign in.
'At the tone, please speak your name.'
'…uh, I'm sorry, what?'
'"…uh, I'm sorry, what?" has joined the conference.'
Me: CAT ARE YOU DOING SOMETHING WEIRD? Cat (in distant room): ...mrow.
People who claim they're the best fuck you'll ever have probably won't be. Like in real life, it's the quiet ones you have to watch.
Adulting is hard and I don't wanna.
♫ Soft titty, warm titty, sexy bag of fat / Bouncy titty, squeezy titty, I'd hit that ♫
I haven't tweeted about sex in a very long ever, so, uh…boners. Like twelve boners.
I told my cat she's adopted today.
I hate when I wake up tired and swear I'm going right back to bed when I get home. I always get home and am like WOO STAYING UP FOREVERRRR
I mean, I'm not sorry enough to stop fucking whining all the time.
Whenever people under 25 make MySpace references, I have to bite my tongue to keep from yelling YOU DON'T KNOW MAN YOU WEREN'T THERE
One of you fucks got Adele stuck in my head and now I can only express my fury via interpretive dance.
Unfollowed a couple of comedians because their shit was forced and unfunny. I hope their acts are better.
I like that we live in a world where it's a grave insult to call someone a Hufflepuff.
Sometimes I come home and my cat is all MROWMROWMROW and I'm like BITCH I AIN'T WANNA KILL YOU BUT I'LL FUCKIN' DO IT
I'm a huge misanthropist with a serious social aversion, so it makes perfect sense that I've always worked in customer support.
I want to live in a world where no one has to come out as gay because it doesn't matter.
I know we're limited to 140 characters, but there is never any excuse for using 'u' in place of 'you'.
The only way I'm gonna get any work done at this point is for acid to drip on me every time I refresh Twitter.
I talk a lot but I don't really say anything. +1 (978) CROWMAN is really my phone number.