19 Of Mindy Kaling’s Most Hysterical Tweets

Over the past two years, I have formed a bond with one single female that could be described in a number of ways. Admirable, best friends forever, envy inducing, so magical even Beyonce would be jealous, slightly delusional, of spirit animal nature, and borderline stalker are just a few that come to mind. Sure, I don’t actually know Mindy Kaling, but there comes a point in time in your late 20s — when you spend most of your time sleeping or working (because partying is no longer in your bloodstream the way it used to be) — when you start referring to celebrities you love, admire, and worship, as if they were actually your friends. To explain in further detail, I’m going to refer to a handful of her glorious Tweets over the last few months, because few people have mastered the art of the complete non-sequitur that is 140-character microblogging as she has. (And if you don’t follow her on Twitter, really, what are you doing with your life?)


Is there anything worse than a skinny foodie? And can you really even trust a skinny foodie? Like, oh, am I just supposed to believe that you really got the full flavor palate from just one bite of that entree? I call bullshit, and so does Mindy.


My girl Mindy’s name has been all over the news (blogs) this week, stirring up controversy about her upcoming Elle cover – and how it’s only her face. Lots of mysterious stigma involving a Melissa McCarthy cover, a Lena Dunham cover, and the idea that girls with curves don’t ever get a full body shot on the cover of a magazine. Mindy’s response, above, is basically exactly how I would feel. Cover of Elle Magazine? Yes, please. I don’t care if it’s just my hand. Or my knee. Sign my body parts up to be on the cover, and if you want to see more, go on 13 dates with me. (Just joking, we both know my relationships never last that long.)


Because most guys think that Kim Kardashian looks really natural and doesn’t wear makeup. No comment.


Logic? Logic. She uses logic. She’s also brave enough to remind you that your baby is not a snowflake. (I admire the chutzpah there, I do. Because hell hath no fury like mommy blogger scorned.)


It’s absolutely not the point of the film, but don’t tell me you didn’t have a moment with that fur coat he wears.


Mindy is the Queen of “asking for a friend” type tweets. It’s the ultimate template. You get to confess all of your deepest, darkest secrets, and nobody knows if it’s really you or your friend. And nobody will be able to prove otherwise.


She has no qualms about complimenting the hotness of other women whilst ordering a bucket sized margarita and some chicken fingers. Because god above, who doesn’t love chicken fingers?


A Fleetwood Mac reference and a Police reference in the same tweet? We’re not worthy.


If you don’t feel this one deep in your bones, I think you must be someone who doesn’t eat foods, or live in a warmer state, where comfort food does not apply to you. Because everyone knows that cornbread is the ultimate comfort food and my god, have you tasted the Trader Joe’s boxed product? Easy, peasy, freaking party in your mouth. Just call me Cornbread, guys.


Packing for a trip while intoxicated is the best/worst idea you could ever have. It goes by much quicker, but you usually end up with no pants and fourteen pairs of underwear. You know, just in case.


As my best friend who recently moved out on her own said last week, “Ah, avocados. A luxury of the rich.” Avocados, the commonplace currency of the future.


Did you watch the Golden Globes? Did we have a moment looking at Heidi Klum’s dress wondering if it was 1996 again?


Emergency costume? Me too, Mindy. Me too. Except mine is Minnie Mouse.


She gives spot on descriptions of rom-coms to woo your boyfriend, or male friend, or father, into watching a movie with you. See also: her descriptions of While You Were Sleeping and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.


This one is near and dear to my heart, because really – if you’ve seen both of these shows, you know you do it, too. If not, you are a robot, or on your comedic deathbed.


This one pretty much sums up trying to date in your twenties.


Finally, somebody answered the question plaguing our era: what, exactly, was the THAT that she said?


I definitely relate hard to this one, because most of the men in my life have been real Daniel Cleavers. And a Mr. Darcy loves you for who you are in all of your blue soup, granny panty, vodka loving, breakup bluesing glory. And really, isn’t that what we want most out of life?


For some reason, while I hate people who updated their Facebook statuses every thirty seconds, I have no qualms about tweeting nonconsequential details about my life every fifteen seconds on Twitter. There is no rhyme or reason to this, but I feel it. I feel it.

(This post was in no way sponsored by Mindy Kaling, The Mindy Project, FOX, or anyone at all, but if any one of those people or places wants to give me a job, I’ll totally take it.) Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Keep up with Meg on Twitter

More From Thought Catalog