Work out, lay out, black out. TSM.
Work out, lay out, black out. TSM.
He knows I could sabotage his new relationship with one perfectly timed shack shirt wear, and he acts accordingly. TSM.
I’m so done with him…at least for tonight. TSM.
Glitter makes everything better…except your eyes. TSM.
No frat daddy will ever measure up to my real daddy. TSM.
Clicking on “Mutual Friends” to figure out what fraternity he’s in. TSM.
If only Starbucks delivered. TSM.
Reading two and three letter acronyms with Greek letters. TSM.
Lipstick on my Starbucks cup. TSM.
Fine. You don’t “buy your friends,” but I don’t buy my drinks. TSM.
I shaved my “legs” for this. TSM.
Oh my God, I LOVEEEEEEEEE her! TSM.
Turning Read Receipt on just so he knows when I’m ignoring him. TSM.
Having pillow tits with the proper waist to breast ratio. TSM.
Upgrading to the newest iPhone in white so it will go with every Lilly phone cover. TSM.
Jackie in the streets, Marilyn in the sheets. TSM.
“I don’t know why women want any of the things men have when one of the things that women have is men.” – Coco Chanel. TSM.
Linsanity. TFM. Pinsanity. TSM.
When in doubt, drink. TSM.
Multiple sisters tweeting your TSM post at you. TSM.