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People usually don't like it when I refer to their children as "fuck trophies".
A friend came to me for advice, and I instinctively told her to get an abortion. She's not even pregnant! Thank you for that, Twitter.
Only 92 shopping days left until FUCK YOU ANYONE WHO KEEPS TRACK OF THAT SHIT.
I took my car into the shop today. They charged me two different prices and then just theorized for hours. Fucking Quantum Mechanics.
I wish there was a more drastic button I could click than "Block." Maybe like, "Sever Fingers From Body" or "Send Midget Rapists."
My alarm clock not only rings, it flips me onto the floor, sodomizes me and then calls me a little girl. It also has a nature sounds button.
My favorite app on the iPhone is the one that lets me see how fucking greasy my skin is every time I touch it. Works even when it's off.
I'm not trying to keep you from masturbating, but I'd really like it if you did it in your own bed, mom.
Twitter needs more power ups and boss fights.
If someone tells me their mom is dead during a mom joke, I typically make a sad, sad face...and then promptly make 3 necrophilia jokes.
Pretty sure that the glass of semen I just drank wasn't mine. I'm starting to realize now how little this actually changes things.
I noticed that some of my new followers have very mild, PG-13 rated feeds. Don't worry; I can be your scrambled porn at 2am. I promise.
Some nights on Twitter make me want to wash my soul out with soap. Other nights I curl up in the shower like a rape victim. Always fun, guys
The first guy who didn't know shit from Shinola probably went through a fuckton of shoes before he figured it out.
The best part about marriage is when the car exhaust completely fills the garage and the carbon monoxide poisoning sets in.
If my timeline is to be believed, pretty much every one of us should be tweeting from either a penitentiary or an asylum.
Pretending to be a pedophile and a stalker pervert on Twitter is almost as much fun as pretending to be a normal person at work.
I thought I'd try out this Geotagging feature on my phone...but doing it from my secret underground crack brothel was a terrible idea.
People who dress their pets: You're dead to me. Unrelated: Can anyone help me sew this jingle bell back on this tiny reindeer costume?
I feel like such an over-achiever when I remember to grab the tissues before I start masturbating.
Wake up and smell the hatred, people. You're stewing in it right now.