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Sometimes I wish I didn't have chronic bitchface.
The only drawback to digital photos is that they can't be burned.
I want to fuck your life and your face.
I'm glad I had to slave over mixtapes in high school. Playlists just don't have the same soul.
Do all you funny, charming people on twitter just fucking lie about being lonely? I don't get it.
Any time a guy compliments me, all I hear is "I love how you have a vagina that I might be able to stick my dick in."
I want you so bad, I don't even fucking want you anymore.
Twitter is the most fucked up dating site ever.
Why do people bitch and moan so much about being single? Personally, I'm never more miserable than when I have a fucking dumb boyfriend.
DOWNLOADING A BEER.
I understand happiness the same way a blind person understands color.
The beginning crush part of a relationship is the best part of life. Better than drugs even.
There is nothing elite about twitter.
I want to get one of those steel rammer things for the front of my car.
If you want to find your soulmate, just date me for 3-6 months. Guaranteed you will find her immediately thereafter.
Facebook is a museum. Twitter is a playground.
I can tell if I'm slipping back into depression by the number of stars my tweets get.
I'm just itching to go on an out-of-control, epically alcoholic rampage. Instead, I'm going to make some green tea and read about science.
You know you're an alcoholic when you worry about the bartender thinking you're an alcoholic.
Is there such a thing as adult-onset ADD? If so, I think I have it. Or is it just internet procrastination addiction?
Live tweeting my glorious self-destruction.