“I’m tweeting that.” TSM.

Hiding adderall in your pin box. TSM.

Deciding to be “friends” after the break up so it’s easier to show him what he’s missing. TSM.

Every New Year’s Eve I wonder how I could possibly top the last year, and every New Year’s Eve I do it. TSM.

The silent competition you have with the girl that shows up wearing the same dress as you. TSM.

This year let’s resolve to make better bad decisions. TSM.

I’m not an alcoholic, I’m a soberphobic. TSM.

The only thing I have energy for today is TSM, 2012 won. TSM.

The New Year Diet is always ruined by the New Year’s Day Hangover. TSM.

First morning of the year, first walk of shame of the year. TSM.

Homecoming is my favorite holiday. TSM.

Dear New Year’s Eve, please give me back my dignity and my shoes. TSM.

Drafting your “Happy New Year” mass text in advance. TSM.

The first thing I did when I got my iPhone was download the TSM app. TSM.

Naming your new car after your sorority’s flower. TSM.

If Daddy ever heard you call me a “slampiece” he’d be after you with The Second Amendment. TSM.

Looking pretty, getting shitty. TSM.

It is pink and I shall bedazzle it and I shall call it sororitized. TSM.

People either love us so much they hate us or hate us so much they love us. TSM.

The only thing fake about me is the DOB on my ID. TSM.