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Well, it didn't start out as a thong when I got dressed this morning.
If I keep procrastinating like this, I'm going to end up back in yesterday.
In the midst of family crisis and the first thing they say to me is "Please don't Tweet about this." PROUDEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE.
"Hey, I have an idea I'd like to run by you."
When you hear that coming from family, it's code for:
"Makin' plans to fuck with your life."
Frankly, I don't get sexually harassed enough.
My apologies. What I meant to say was "Reese Pieces" - not that a peanut buttered flavoured penis doesn't sound enticing.
I burned my ass sitting on this heating pad too long. I have welts. ON MY ASS!
If that doesn't have sexy written all over it - what does???
I need a GPS that communicates to me in a more meaningful way. For example:
- This way
- That way
- The other right
When it comes to love, I'm probably more of a heels over head than a head over heels kinda girl.
Life is full of peaks and valleys ~ and I'm in the fucking drainage ditch.
Even on Twitter I feel like the last soul left in the bar ~ lights on, chairs turned up, staff staring hoping I would fucking leave already.
Do you ever wake up from a dream wondering how the fuck your mind even came up with that?
Won $10 on the lottery. As promising as this looks, I'm thinking I may still have to re-evaluate this as my only retirement savings plan.
BOSS: Are you pregnant?
ME: Fuck off.
BOSS: Well, you look all puffy.
ME: It's my allergies.
BOSS: Your whole body?!
ME: Fuck off.
Well, that diet lasted 12 minutes.
It would be nice if something other than this hair brush pulled my hair for a change.
ME: So, why don't I have a six pack?
TRAINER: You do. There's just a big fluffy duvet on top.
I don't necessarily need a husband.
I just need a second income.
I need chocolate or I need a man... but I need one of them every day at three o'clock.