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Mom: You’re never moving out, are you?
Me: *peaks out of pillow fort* probably not.
Mom: Is my vodka in that fort?
Me: NO GIRLS ALLOWED!
Me: Whatcha making?
Mom: Dill bread.
Me: So, do you have yeast on your dill dough?
Mom: Get out.
1. Put your penis in.
2. Take your penis out.
3. Put your penis in.
4. Shake it all about.
5. Put coworkers sandwich back in the fridge.
You're unfollowing me because I don't proof read my tweets?
Go ahead, see if I take a shit.
1. Write hilarious tweet.
2. Laugh uncontrollably.
3. Send tweet.
4. Three stars.
5. Die alone.
Post a tweet that took you 40 minutes to write: 4 stars.
Cat runs across the keyboard: 29 RTs, 416 stars, 3DMs.
Sometimes I hate you all.
Me: *holds foot over pavement*
Mom: Please, NO!
Cop: Don’t do it, kid.
Me: SHE PROMISED ME ICE CREAM! *steps on crack*
Cop: *opens fire*
The Five Stages of Twitter.
1. Follow celebrities.
2. Using hashtags.
3. Follow real people.
4. Find Favstar.
5. Starvation & death.
Mom: Rent’s due.
Me: *puts on invisibility cloak*
Mom: That’s a Hanna Montana sheet, fucker.
Me: *waves wand* rentus oblivious!
Mom: Ugh
Nana
Nana
Nana
Nana
Nana
Nana
Nana
Nana
BATMAN!
Nana
Nana
Nana
Nana
Nana
Nana
Nana
Nana
BATMAN!
-Me, sorting through my grandma's mail.
Alcoholics: It’s 5 o’clock somewhere!
Potheads: It’s 4:20 somewhere!
Crackheads: I’ll suck your dick for $3!
I may not be the sharpest sandwich in the tree, but put my pants on one sleeve at a time just like you.
Do you have any cookies?
Mom: Who are these people!
Me: It’s a tweet-up!
Mom: What?
Me: These are my friends.
Mom: That guy’s peeing on the cat!
Me: He’s elite!
You don't know true horror until you've had the realization that the bath toy you were squirting in your mouth as a child was your mother's used douche.
