Favstar gets even better if you sign in.
Omg, I'm a huge fan!
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!
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.
I'm a narsciic- narcssiss- narcasassi- narcysis-narcis-
I'm better than you.
Me: Whatcha making?
Mom: Dill bread.
Me: So, do you have yeast on your dill dough?
Mom: Get out.
You're unfollowing me because I don't proof read my tweets?
Go ahead, see if I take a shit.
Kids are SO gullible.
And flammable, HOLY SHIT!
Operator: 911, what's your emergency.
Me: I'm 33 and I tried to do a cartwheel.
Why are all the good tweets either already taken or gay?
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*
Alcoholics: It’s 5 o’clock somewhere!
Potheads: It’s 4:20 somewhere!
Crackheads: I’ll suck your dick for $3!
The Five Stages of Twitter.
1. Follow celebrities.
2. Using hashtags.
3. Follow real people.
4. Find Favstar.
5. Starvation & death.
Mom: Who are these people!
Me: It’s a tweet-up!
Me: These are my friends.
Mom: That guy’s peeing on the cat!
Me: He’s elite!
Mom: Rent’s due.
Me: *puts on invisibility cloak*
Mom: That’s a Hanna Montana sheet, fucker.
Me: *waves wand* rentus oblivious!
Alcoholism doesn’t run in my family.
It stumbles around.
Accepting a Facebook friend request from someone you follow on twitter is like bringing home your drug dealer to meet your family.
Dear straight men,
Just because we look at you doesn't mean we want to sleep with you.
PS: Your jeans are hideous.
-Me, sorting through my grandma's mail.
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.