Angie Davis

This just in: Satan has spoke out about the episode of South Park. While he appreciates the satire, he wants to make it clear his relationship with Trump still remains only professional.

Headline: raccoon with meth pipe in front seat of car pulled over in Ohio

Me: well, at least my ex is staying busy.

Any man that flirts with me should automatically have to duel me. YOU WANT IN MY PANTS? FIGHT ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH.

Don’t be afraid to use a flattering angle, and slap a filter on, and take a smoke & mirrors selfie. Baby, if men can pretend to be decent human beings, we can pretend to be skinny and cute.

As a dad I believe it’s my duty to embarrass my kids every chance I get, whether it’s with bad dad dancing at family weddings, telling funny stories about them to their friends, or pointing to them as public proof that someone has had the sex with me at least 3 times.

Tired of trying to flirt with these men. I’m just gonna lay a tiddy on your shoulder. If it’s meant to be it’s meant to be.

Stocking up on clearance chocolate bunnies to bite their heads off every time a man pisses me off…is self care.

Reasons I should be the next Pope:
Various hats will come in handy when I inevitably cut my own bangs again.
Long flowing robes will give me an air of mystery. Does she still have a dump truck ass? Who can tell. But I bet she’s got some fajitas under there.
Vatican City = New Vegas.

I don’t want to beat a dead horse, as far as the Pope/JD Vance speculation goes. But…last time I went on a date with a man wearing guyliner, I also wanted to immediately die.

Love on the Spectrum, but it’s just me trying to talk to men while violently dry heaving.

The sexual tension at my cat’s birthday party? Palpable.

This just in: Going by Angie “best tits in WV” Davis has got me little to no extra rewards at the local Sheetz.

I have a GED, a can do spirit, a great rack, and I’m always full of queso. That’s right, boys. I’m the whole package.

Decided to do some push-ups and now I’ve been laying face down on the concrete floor for three hours.

Sometimes friends are like: “you okay?”
And I’m like: “just working through some stuff.”

And all the while, the “stuff” is my lack of crab Rangoons.

Yes I’m cute and funny, but I still giggle when someone on TV says “duties.” So know that before you go falling in love with me, guys.

Working on a PowerPoint presentation about why men suck. Currently have 12,678 slides.

Are you okay, Chris?

Look if salt works to keep away evil spirits and things, I don’t see why it won’t stop fuck boys from bothering me.

You want a beach body, I want a bog body. We are not the same.

Just over here doing shots of apple sauce from a thigh flask. Typical hot girl shit.

My thoughts exactly.

*writing in science journal*

The muppets and Star Wars undies had no effect on men. I have adorned my Stranger Things undies and will document the results. The Wonder Woman undies shall remain “final boss stage” attire.
…
Wait, do they need to SEE the undies?!
THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING.

What your post failed to consider is me, a stranger with bad opinions

Men. Please stop putting string cheese on the ground under a big box held up by a stick to trap me. I will not be fooled for a 17th time.

When I put crispy Bugles on my fingers like long witch fingernails, that’s when I’m about to seduce you into making fucks.

Him: what that mouth do?

Me: hurl swears at straight men, mostly.

It's raining men because the aliens are returning the abductees in the most compelling way possible.

Stages of trying to sleep:

I can get 8 hours
I can still get 7 hours
I can still get 6 hours
I can still get 5 hours
I can still get 4 hours
I can still get 3 hours
I can still get 2 hours
I can still get 1 hour
*falls asleep for 5 minutes*
*alarm goes off *