Jesus loves you. A wonderful statement to those in a church. A horrifying statement in a Mexican prison.

I want to be stabbed. Repeatedly. With a penis. In my vagina.

Ok, yoga pants. No one wears them for yoga. Why haven't we renamed them please stare at my ass and/or cameltoe, I like free stuff pants yet?

"I will fucking kill you & make it look like an accident motherfucker" is the new "til death do us part."

This thong is so far up my ass, it owes me a fucking sandwich.

Milk and cookies are for pussies. I'll have some whiskey and xanax.

I don't suck dick for money so, no, you won't see me in clothing with the words "pink" or "juicy" on them.

My life needs more cowbell.

Men have two emotions: hungry and horny. If you see him without an erection, make him a sandwich.

My marriage rule is never go to bed angry. Kiss him goodnight, then quietly stay awake and plot my revenge.

My favorite sex position is the one where sex happens that lasts longer than 2 minutes.

New house rule: For every toy left out that gets stepped or tripped on, a teddy bear dies. Violently. This should be fun.

I only have a label maker so I can let the office know their nicknames & stick obscene words on people's desks. Chode McDickburns HATES it.

Everyone thinks they know everything until the office copier has a paper jam.

If she ain't limping, you ain't pimping.

I think my vagina is on bath salts. It keeps wanting to eat my husband's face & swallow his penis.

Everybody is someone else's weirdo.

You look so hot taking pics of yourself in your dirty bathroom mirror. What a smart, sexy person. - no one. Ever. So stop.

Misery loves company. Which is why I'm married. And on Twitter.

Hey! Hey! Look at me! Hey! Rub me! Hey! I farted! Hey! I love you! Hey! Look - red rocket! Hey! I'm hungry! Hey! I farted! - Dogs. And men.