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I hate when I dream that the phone ringing is my alarm clock and then my boss is all like, "are you gonna get that?"
I just spent an hour helping my coworker look for her yogurt that I ate 3 hours ago. I'd say my good deed for the day is done.
My phone just auto corrected "happiness" into "a penis", but that is pretty much what I meant anyway.
Someone sent me flowers today at work!! Ok, it was a flower. Ok, it was flour. OK, it was a cake. OK, it was for the whole office.
After people change their FB status to single, I like to upload a bunch of picturess of the happy ex couple and tag the shit out of them.
I would probably never date a guy in a band. Faking orgasms is tough enough. I can't imagine having to fake I like his CD too.
Does sitting in my car across the street from his house count as a long distance relationship? Or am I still single??
Someone just handed me a note written in cursive. Yea, I don't know how to read this. Sorry.
Baby talk between two grown-ass people is more disturbing than body parts in a freezer.
My boss just asked me how flexible I am. And I gotta say, I think he was really, really impressed with my answer.
Turns out, all of my stars ÷ number of followers x number of tweets I've tweeted ÷ how long I've had twitter = why I never have sex.
If you're drunk and I'm drunk, chances are we are going to be best friends for 2 hours and 45 minutes.
Guessing the plant lady is an illegal. I mentioned Borders and she got really nervous. Chill Lupita, it's a libro store.
My boyfriend sends me the cutest little text messages, "Hey Sugar Tits, those dishes better be done by the time I get home." SWOON!
My life is starting to feel a lot like a Bob Ross painting. Except my little bush is sad.
I hate when it's Sunday and I want to sleep in but there's a piece of cake in my fridge.