The only coke I do is diet. TSM.

Blacked out me is still classier than you. TSM.

Blame it on the a-a-a-a-adderall. TSM.

Snaps for Dirk. TSM.

Miranda is such a ginger-geed. Happiness is Carrie’s shoes, Samantha’s gusto, and the homelife and wardrobe of Charlotte. TSM.

The mom I nanny for just paid her 6 year old to do his homework. TSM.

A Charlotte with Samantha’s sex life. TSM.

Caring way too much about themed dance competitions. TSM.

Our legacies aren’t ugly. TSM.

Doing a presentation about “negative” stereotypes featured in Cosmo while perpetuating most of them yourself. TSM.

Shacker hair, don’t care. TSM.

Always knowing the lowest calorie option on the menu. TSM.

Individually unique, together complete. TSM.

I ignore your late night calls every weekend. Get the hint already. Thanks. TSM.

My daily ultimatum: If you don’t work out, you’re not going out. TSM.

Never forgetting to hide my face when taking those kinds of cell phone pictures. TSM.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but shoes and booze excite me! TSM.

Getting ready for the night with a beer in one hand and a curling iron in the other. TSM.

“Losing” my voice when a heinous PNM comes through the door. TSM.

Live. Laugh. Rage. TSM.