Did I leave my curling iron on? TSM.
Did I leave my curling iron on? TSM.
Going to meet my fratdaddy’s parents for the first time and instantly bonding with his mom over her recruitment chair days. TSM.
“I remember my first fratdaddy.” TSM.
Text me when you get home, okay? TSM.
I wear letters on my chest, pearls around my neck, and a southern gentleman on my arm. TSM.
Screw this, let’s bedazzle. TSM.
Not to be a bitch, but… TSM.
The more you mention how pretty you think you are, the less pretty you actually become. TSM.
Lavalier tan lines. TSM.
I don’t have problems to drink about…instead I drink to my perfect life. TSM.
Just met my fratdaddy’s grandmother for the first time. Is it bad that the first thing I noticed was her wedding ring? TSM.
Who are all these girls that are so hopeless in the kitchen all they can make you is a sandwich? TSM.
Setting up my GBF with my little’s GBF. TSM.
That special connection between sisters with the same shoe size. TSM.
Is it wrong that I get really mad when geeds share TSMs on Facebook? TSM.
The only thing I hate more than cargo pants are capris. TSM.
Taking big/little stack pictures with my mom and grandma at family functions. TSM.
My twitter background is the pink TSM sailboats. TSM.
“Offensive, Loud, and Self-Centered” is pro-con-pro for “Stupid Fucking Bitch.” TSM.
There’s a word for her…I’m just too much of a lady to say it. TSM.