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People keep mistaking my "wow"s for compliments.
I know I'm going to embarrass myself in most situations but the specifics still surprise me.
With my luck, I'll die and get reincarnated as myself.
If being annoyed burned calories I'd be Keira Knightley skinny or possibly dead.
All I'm saying is A Flock of Seagulls worked aurora borealis into a song and we should really respect that.
I've discovered I own five umbrellas, if anyone wants to stage a musical number.
I don't think this wine is erasing the right memories.
These days my "dancing" looks an awful lot like "sipping a drink in the corner and judging people".
I feel like a hug from John Goodman would cure basically everything.
I just hope I'm hating the right things.
Brunch? No, I went to public school.
I just want to meet someone like Kurt Russell's hair.
My self-loathing hit critical mass when I tried on orange jeans.
Let's focus on positive things, like the fact my perm years came before digital cameras.
Ten toes seems a little excessive.
If you made a pie chart illustrating the ratio of my food to non-food tweets, I'd probably eat that, too.
I don't know, I just prefer it when a guy is at least as masculine as Bea Arthur.
I hope fulfilling my destiny doesn't require me to get off the couch.
I liked Taylor Swift more when I thought she was one of those brooms from Fantasia.
Finally came to terms with Harrison Ford's earring. There are other battles.