Sometimes I wish I had a field of daisies to jump and skip through just so I could yell, "Fuck you, flowers! Fuck you right in the face!"

Dr. Phil is to modern psychiatry what Foghorn Leghorn is to linguistics.

I like to hang dried flower arrangements in my apartment so my houseplants know not to fuck with me.

My fantasy of being able to deep throat like a porn star suffers a minor setback every time I rediscover my gag reflex brushing my teeth.

I think I'd feel a lot better doing my Kegels out in public if I could figure out how to stop making my "mascara face" every time I do them.

"You're so fucked" should be in every high school guidance counselor's office superimposed over a panoramic of soaring bald eagles in flight

Confident in my mediocrity, I always like to give things my full 50 percent.

I just gave myself a bad paper cut on this index card and now I know how Carrie felt when all that pig's blood fell on her at Prom.

Spiders would probably be a lot less terrifying if they had to wear roller skates.

Sometimes you just need to buck up and face your fears. I mean, what's the most you've got to lose? Your life? You got that for free anyway.

The answer is gin. I forget the question.

Punctuation is the difference between yelling "Fuck my eye!" and "Fuck, my eye!".


Lesson learned.

Meeting someone I went to high school with for coffee. Can't wait to update them on the absolutely nothing I've accomplished since then.

When I was a wee girl I looked forward to a life of forming attachments to emotionally unavailable men & now my dream has finally come true.

No, YOU try explaining to your mom the 8-in dildo on your nightstand is for a study on the effects of phallic imagery in modern advertising.

Pretty sure I just saw the delivery guy roll his eyes when I called out to my imaginary boyfriend after binge ordering. He may be onto me..

I like to follow back. I may not find you "funny" but maybe you rescue kittens from burning bldgs in your spare time and hey that's cool too

I told him I had a headache but he kept insisting sperm increases endorphin-production and I don't know. I hate loving science sometimes.

Apparently you can only favorite so many tweets per day now? Whatever, Hitler.

Lady I'd rather marinate in a Wendys garbage bin and let hungry dogs gnaw off my vagina than listen to 1 second of your 'wonderful' vacation