When I explained Twitter to my mother she said, "Sounds like group therapy where no one's getting better." Well played, Mom. Well played.

The woman who injected her 8 year-old daughter with Botox for beauty pageants has lost custody. The child didn't look surprised.

33% of married women say their pet is a better listener than their husband.
And 67% of pets say this crazy bitch won't shut the fuck up.

Jacko's dead. Mel's gone crazy. Arnie's gone straight. Eddie's gone soft. You know what this means, don't you?
Bruce Willis wins The 80s.

Never had a MySpace. Never had a FaceBook. Twitter is my first and only. I feel like a virgin who went straight to anal.

I hope he just says, " Mission Accomplished, motherfuckers," throws down the mike, and struts off, George Jefferson-style.

I named my hard drive That Thang, so once a month my computer asks me if I want to Back That Thang Up.

I would hurry up, Egypt. Only three days left in the American attention span.

The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched.
At least, that's what the restraining order says.

I just got called a gentleman for letting the pretty girl in tight pants go first on the up escalator.
Gentleman.
Yeah, let's go with that.

If Justin Bieber really thinks he is this generation's Kurt Cobain, I'll gladly lend him my shotgun.

In Sarah Palin's defense, let's all calm down and try to remember that she's a moron.

Ah Twitter, where everybody knows your name, but nobody knows the difference between your and you're.

So maybe, in the end, love means finding the person you want to kill the least, the longest.

If you ever see me drinking a Bud Lite Lime, I have been kidnapped and am trying to signal you.

I'm not good-looking enough to be this stupid.

At first, I was afraid. I was petrified.
Thinking I could never live without you by my side.
Then, I upped my meds and fucked your sister.

It takes 22 muscles to smile and 37 muscles to frown. That means I'm working out harder than you, Mr. Fucking Happy.

Love is blind. Hate is deaf. You would think Stupid would be mute, but I just keep talking.

Sometimes, I miss doing drugs. It's sad to think that the next time I get that "I can't feel my face" feeling, I'll be having a stroke.