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My dad texts as if you have to pay extra for vowels.
I've been playing Candy Crush for longer than I have ever been in a romantic relationship.
Is drunk snapchatting the new drunk texting?
Last night at a party, I actually made a group of at least ten people listen to me read what I have identified as my best tweets.
I just messed up a pre-packaged noodle meal in case any of you single fellas are looking for a domestic goddess.
"Your password must contain a letter, a number, a non-alphanumerical symbol and the blood of a virgin."
Welcome to Brown University, where there is a line of people outside the library, waiting for it to open in fifteen minutes.
8th grader: "Miss, my life IS hard. Sometimes when I eat potato chips, I can't hear the tv."
At that age where I do a wedding ring check on the men I find attractive. Sigh.
One day I'll tell my dad that I have his email address saved and he doesn't need to make "from dad" the subject line of every email.
Dear Future Boyfriend:
I promise never to drag you to one of those places where you drink wine and paint some tacky landscape.
Not having a car makes me feel like a trendy, environmentally-friendly hipster and then it rains and I remember that I'm just poor.
I just lost ten minutes of my life looking at a 52-picture slideshow of celebrity baby bumps.
Do they even let you do crossfit if you're not going to brag about it to everyone you meet?
I'll sing "Wicked" alone in my apartment on a Friday night and love every minute of it. Haters to the left.
Stay tuned for more vaguely inspirational relationship garbage brought to you by me being 22, single and lonely.
I tweet about my parents and my own incompetence.
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