@apricotica's (Adrien) most faved Tweets...
Yes, I'm completely content to be a 6th tier Twitter slut bragging about the time I got 4 stars on that funnyish thing I said that one time.
If you'll just do things that rhyme with other things you've done in the past it'll be much easier for me to write a song about your life.
To a 3 y-o "being quiet" means announcing one's intention to be quiet and then speaking at length about how quiet one is, in fact, being.
I'm always flattered when ppl who don't follow me star my tweets. It's like they don't need a relationship; they just wanna give me head.
By starring this Tweet you are making a legally binding declaration that your taste is suspect & your assignments of value are meaningless.
As a child I was sure the song "How Deep is your Love" was a clever way to inquire whether a lady's vag could accommodate her suitor's wang.
My wrinkle cream gives me zits. This does go some ways toward preserving my youthful appearance, but not precisely in the manner I'd hoped.
It's nice to be respected for my wit and insight, but I hope some day someone has the clarity of vision to love me for my pussy.
How am I supposed to poop with Ted Kennedy glaring up at me from the cover of Timeweek? Blistering disapproval makes me clench. :(
Oh, Twitter. You look so peaceful when you're sleeping. I wish I could take a picture. But I know you think it's creepy when I do that.
I'm ovulating & insensible from lust, so #ff has been transmuted to Fuck-me Friday, and the line forms to the left.
"Old McDonald" becomes less grating for me when reframed as a cheery ode to bestiality complete with sound effects from penetrated animals.
Teaching my 3 y-o the "Greasy Grimy Gopher Guts" song. She sings the line about little birdies' bloody feet with disturbing verve.
I used the word paradigm 3x in a conversation yesterday about what kind of chick I'd fuck if I had to fuck a chick. Now NO ONE will fuck me.
It is just stupid to sweat THIS MUCH and not have an orgasm in the process. We need some special attachments for the treadmill. NOW.
I try to say things lately and end up feeling like my words are the equivalent of a limp wang flopping sadly against indifferent labia.
I couldn't escape the feeling this dude was staring at us the entire second half of the flight. http://twitpic.com/l78rj
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