8 y.o. kid for rent. Approx. 2 sq ft. Well maintained/energy efficient. Built-in garbage disposal. Cleans & makes PBJs. $20/day OBO

As if my sex life wasn’t pathetic enough, I have to find out from your tweets that my mom gets laid more than I do.

My friends put me in Twitter time out. Must tweet secretly from bathroom...

Bottle of wine: looks like we have a date tonight. Empty bottle of wine: we might hook up later, if you're lucky.

Why I hate Mondays: Must shower. And put on pants. Being dirty and naked is what the weekends are made for.

I'm glad Twitter doesn't have a "relationship status" in profiles. I think it's just implied that if you are here, it's "fucked up."

My 8 y.o. was sitting on my cell when it started to vibrate. "That felt kinda good, Mommy," she said. Another proud parenting moment.

WANTED: 5'11" dude from Midwest with 9" dick. Will settle for glow-in-the-dark vibrator hooked up to car battery.

WANTED: Benefits.

Without the friend bullshit.

FRIEND: Don't sleep with him on the first date. He'll think you're easy. ME: Hmmm... (thinking). That's okay. I can live with that.

Oh, Monday. How I wish I could smack it up, flip it, and rub you down like you were a Friday.

If by cuddling you mean getting drunk, having hot sloppy sex, and then you leave, then yes, I love cuddling.

I think if I could get Morgan Freeman to narrate my tweets they'd be that much more awesome.

Twitter makes me feel at home. In a virtual trailer park kind of way.

I am not passive-aggressive. I prefer the term "proactive reality twister", TYVM. Oh...and fuck you.

High fever. Chills. Headache. Extreme tiredness. Nausea. Diarrhea. Flu symptoms or Twitter withdrawal?

Sometimes I think if it weren't for the free coffee I would never go to work.

Woke up. Realized I started tweeting from bed before I even went to pee. Time for an intervention?

Co-worker on phone: "...6" at the most"

Fact: Not really sure what you are talking about, but I stopped eavesdropping after 6".

WOW. Rubbed one out during bobsledding. Cowbells. People cheering. It's almost like they were cheering ME on to the finish line.