@knitterplease's (please) most faved Tweets...
Slipped a dude decaf today because he was an impatient prick and I didn't like his tone. Be nice to baristas, people. We can break your day.
I spilled glitter in my purse. Lots of it. Now whenever I reach in there for my keys or whatever I look like I've been fisting strippers.
When people are giving me health advice and they say not to drink coffee all I hear is "bleeble blorgle blah I'm an asshole".
Bikini line: waxed. Underarms: waxed. Eyebrows: waxed. The mustache stays. It makes me look *distinguished*.
I have a dream today. That one day we will be judged not by the cars we drive but by whether we know how to use our fucking turn signals.
Me, walking: "Pedestrians have the right of way AT ALL TIMES, fuckhole!"
Me, driving: "Jesus fuck, LOOK OUT FOR CARS, SHITSTAIN."
Me, driving: "Jesus fuck, LOOK OUT FOR CARS, SHITSTAIN."
You know what? All the funniest, smartest people I know are very mentally ill. This gives me hope and comfort.
You know how we all have that one trashy neighbor that goes outside in her slutty bathrobe or pj's? I don't have that neighbor. I am her.
Me: "Well, I guess I should have some coffee before I stab a motherfucker." Employee: (nervous laugh)
Road rage begets delightful compound words. Just said "Are you fucking serious you cocksmoking asswhore."
Sometimes I pause before saying something that might hurt someone's feelings, but then I'm all, "Haha! Feelings!" and I say it anyway.
Wait, you people talk about your sexual exploits on Twitter? Vulgar. You can bet if I ever have sex, I'm taking that straight to Facebook.
I am NOT listening to Christmas music.
I'm listening to the holiday date-rape classic, "Baby It's Cold Outside".
I'm listening to the holiday date-rape classic, "Baby It's Cold Outside".
I do wear pjs in public. Being self-employed means never having to wear clothes with a waistline. Or is it being clinically depressed?
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