@gunthergreen's (Günther Green) recently faved Tweets...
I use the fucking F-word too much.
I just got started on my taxes. So far, I collected all the unopened mail and called my ex-wife and asked her how many kids we have.
I am calling in sick tomorrow. Because fuck you and your 47 hour weekend.
I woke up this morning and promised myself I would take a few days off from drinking. Morning me is funny.
The only Sunday where church isn't the only thing fucking people out of an hour of their weekend. At least they have wine and a money plate.
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Drinking all day today doesn't get you out of drinking all day on Wednesday. St. Patrick's Day is March 17th. Sorry, no substitutions.
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vanesdropdeadchristnsltwnRyan_DuncancoreyhindsMorrosdesirousgoddessjoesmithreallyashamedtosayRzoubytErrantBettyLies
I was just exposed to Lady Gaga for the first time. I can't decide if I should vomit, cream my pants, cream my vomit, or vomit my pants.
I could never live on the west coast. Those people don't start drinking until 8 pm.
Make sex with me. All of you. Except you. And you. OK you, but wipe off that lipstick. Good.
I was just talking about how I don't have enough weirdos showing up at my house. Then I find out I can add a location to my tweets! Awesome.
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I'm starting to think that guy wasn't really an official bikini inspector. This thing is clearly way too small for me.
I should write a personal apology to the employees of the sewage treatment plant for what I just sent them.
Since I'm the only one who had an orgasm, aren't YOU the two-pump chump?
When you sleep with pants on, all the coins in your pockets end up stuck to your back. Walking to the bathroom is like hitting the jackpot.
I've decided to start eating vegan food. And regular food. I've decided to eat all the food.
I shit my pants one leg at a time, just like the rest of you.
The weather is finally nice today. At least that's what the television I'm watching inside with all the shades down is telling me.
I found a scrap of paper in my desk with a phone number and a note that says "Diarrhea Piñata". I can't decide whether or not to call it.
I just foursquared the men's room at T.G.I. Friday's. King me.
I wonder how men searched for women who blew them in the parking lot of the Holiday Inn before the internet?
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