I'm a lot like Amy Winehouse. But a boy. And with less makeup. And tonedeaf. Hair's smaller. Okay, listen, I just fell off my bar stool.

I ask WebMD to diagnose the weird brown mole I just noticed.

"1. Is it delicious?"
…Yes?
"2. Were you eating Easter candy in bed?"
…Oh.

Weaving, officer? Do you SEE a loom?

MY WINE HAS A CORK TONIGHT!

Welcome to Fancytown, population me.

"I think I've seen this episode of The Nanny before" would make for a pretty succinct suicide note.

Just poured a generous glass of my dad's jug wine. The apple doesn't stumble and pass out in a pool of its own vomit far from the tree.

I drive like I fuck: fast, alone, and in violation of multiple state and local laws.

Ask your manager for the maximum number of Double-Down Sandwiches one customer may order. Serve me that many. Do not look me in the eyes.

'Home Is Where the Only Toilet I Feel Comfortable Using Is' just wouldn't look as good in needlepoint.

I've been invited to get 'brunch.' That's yuppie for 'hammered by noon,' right?

Day 6 w/o Internet: Plan to hang self falls through when I can't look up where to buy rope or how to tie a noose.

Instead of downloading WebMD for the iPad, I taped a piece of paper to the screen and scrawled "IT'S CANCER" on it.

Fox News can't make fun of the Human Microphone because it's a large group of white people enthusiastically repeating everything they hear.

That conservatives think fear of the death penalty is the only thing keeping a person from murder speaks volumes about their ethics.

Well, I've still never operated an ACTUAL vagina, but surely I get some points for driving that Prius.

Dropped my brother at some skank's house. Told him, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do—AND THAT PRETTY MUCH RULES OUT LADIES." I'm adorable.

I admire your commitment to Facebook-based political activism.

I salute my fellow moviegoers, who could not passively watch disaster unfold and suggested to the characters several wise courses of action.

Whoever built a gym right outside the window by my candy-eating chair is a fuck.

Ever see a guy and think, "Wow, I could grate cheese on those abs" then have to stop and ask if it's the abs or the cheese getting you hot?