Just ate some ice cream. I realize this is of zero consequence, but that's why it's called "Twitter" and not "Plato's Republic."

I'm having a martini with the dog and cat. I don't count this as drinking alone.

I am not even remotely interested in anything I have to say.

My mom sent me a crystal martini pitcher. My husb is unemployed, we may lose our house, & my mom sent a crystal martini pitcher. I love her.

Dear Student: "AWKWARD" in the margin of your paper doesn't mean we've shared something uncomfortably poignant. It means you can't write.

Just fell on my ass in the ice. But with defiance and great dignity.

That's the first time giving blood that I've been asked to state my "gender at birth." I guess I really am having a bad hair day.

Every time my brother goes to Berlin to see his German girlfriend, I can't help thinking he's making a Das Booty call.

No honey, that tan doesn't look fake. It looks like 100% genuine Cheetos.

Wept in class today while reading a passage from Lear. So now students can add "sensitive" next to "terrifying" on their course evaluations.

Just served coffee by Too-Much-Eye-Contact Boy. I prefer my latte with a slightly smaller dose of creepy intimacy.

I seem to be on an anti-religious tear. My apologies to the make-believe, omniscient, gray-bearded white dude who likes to rape virgins.

I'm not procrastinating. I'm arranging my paperclips into a figurative map of ancient Scottish clan organization. HEY, IT NEEDED TO BE DONE.

#youknowyourfat when you don't know the difference between "your" and "you're."

Oh wait, that's not fat. That's stupid.

Midget at Starbucks. I mean, You know, in case you keep track of their whereabouts.

I admire women who continue to wear the fanny pack--in defiance of style, aesthetics, and, let's face it, all that is decent and human.

God, give me the serenity to deny your existence.

Dear job candidate: A 17-pg cover letter and c.v. may very well communicate your vast expertise, but it also says that you're BATSHIT CRAZY.

I hate my family and it's not even the holidays yet.

We're coming to the point where it only seems appropriate to upgrade the status of my shower mildew from "colony" to "civilization."