@gl0bals0j0urner's (Natalia Burke) most faved Tweets...
I've become my grandma. I just ate 1/2 a banana and saved the rest for later. I didn't know becoming your parents could skip a generation.
Earlier today, I stabbed myself in the face with my keys and made my lip bleed.
Coincidentally, this was also the highlight of my weekend.
Coincidentally, this was also the highlight of my weekend.
Roommate (holding her cat): Have you ever seen a little pussy that needs so much attention?
Me: I'm not mature enough for this conversation
Me: I'm not mature enough for this conversation
I agree, fellow drivers. That stalled car was fascinating. Good thing we slowed down to 5 mph on the freeway to get a better look.
Mom: "I think you drink too much."
Me: First of all, that's simply not possible. Secondly, you drove me to it."
Me: First of all, that's simply not possible. Secondly, you drove me to it."
If tweeting "sex" results in pornbots, what does typing "rich single male" result in? Twitter, don't let me down on this one.
My sister thinks I'm spoiled, but really, she's just jealous that I have a good relationship with the financially secure parent.
I hand out gold stars on Twitter as an example to my 3rd grade teacher. Who was a stingy green star giving bitch.
OMG! My first 50 star tweet! Uh, I mean, I don't care. I don't gain personal validation from anonymous people on the internet or anything...
Extremely pregnant women make me nervous. I'm always afraid they're going to spray me with amniotic fluid and then not pay the therapy bills
I'm at the gym, and people are circling the parking lot looking for closer spots so they don't have to walk as far. Fucktards.
I just made toasted pumpkin seeds. I feel just like Martha Stewart, but with less money and no criminal record.
Geez, you send one "I'm a zombie here to eat your brain" text, and suddenly people are throwing around words like "alcoholic" and "crazy"
Wine before beer, you're still going to feel like shit the next afternoon. Someone make that rhyme so I can remember it when I'm drunk.
I am writing to you from 1997. The year my grandparents' bought this computer. Please send supplies for Y2K.
I love playing the where-did-I-leave-my-cellphone-that-has-inconveniently-died game. And by love I mean WHERE THE FUCK IS MY PHONE?!
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