Why do you have to ruin everything on the internet? Here’s a little-known fact for you: Every time you put song lyrics in your Facebook status, a kitten dies. Below are a few more observations I’ve made on the bad habits of female social site socialites that annoy me most…
1. I think you misunderstand the intended meaning and use of the “I give zero f*cks” meme. It is not meant to be another way for you to outwardly manifest your inner passive aggressivity on the wordwide interwebs. Actually, if you type “I give zero f*cks” into Google Tanslate and select “translate to sane,” it will return something along the lines of, “Look at me, I’m super sad, but I’m actually so freakin’ strong and empowered I’m going to post about how un-sad I am. Take that, you! OMG Taylor Swift I love this song…” Social media does not exist to be your personal diary. That’s what blogs are for.
2. Do not post on your friends wall, have them post on your wall, or host your own Twitter conferences on how people suck and you and your girlfriends have a relationship stronger than a covalent bond. People are awesome, they do things like create Nyan Cat videos and give you candy and offer you rides in their unmarked white vans. Candy is the single greatest thing to happen to man. I’m pretty sure that on the 6th day, God actually said, “Let there be candy.” Once again though, I digress….
3. I don’t feel like I should even have to say this, but stop taking pictures of yourself and posting them. You want to know what impression you give when all your profile images feature your right arm or a mirror? You’re telling the world, “I couldn’t find a single living soul to take my picture, because I’m awful.” You know what else is awful? A world without candy.
So please, please please please please please do us all a favor and keep the Soap Opera where it belongs, on daytime television and in prison. Love you mean it.
This year for Christmas, I’m getting myself a new insurance company.
I like to live by the saying, “You catch more flies with honey…” Well, I also have another motto: When a company screws you, don’t get mad, get publicly irate and spam them on every public forum possible. Yesterday, I had a small problem consisting of a tree branch through my windshield and the minor 8 hour misplacement of my car by my insurance carrier. After hours of frustrating and ineffective phone calls, I decided to take my displeasure to the ‘book. Below are the highlights:
As some of you may have heard or noticed, Facebook has gone rogue. Therefore, I decided it was about time that I went rogue as well. Let’s. Do. This.
It was recently brought to my attention (by me) that LuLu’s totally and utterly, for lack of a more eloquent word, sucks. Yes, they often times have cute, moderately priced inventory, the large majority of which is eternally sold out in every size and color. Speaking of color, WHY do they insist upon listing different color options as separate items? I don’t want to run a search to see if you have dress A in coral (which you don’t), or if skirt B comes in black (it does! Kidding, out of stock). I want it all on the same page, because I’m lazy, and my fingers hurt from all the clicking.
So, ladies and…ladies, I give you ASOS. ASOS is an online fashion and beauty retailer with approximately 1,500 new product lines being introduced each week. Yes, it may be based in England, but guess what? Shipping is free, both ways! Winner winner chicken dinner!
ASOS offers a broad range of prices, with dresses starting at $17 and capping out at around $520. The best part? When people ask where you got it, you get to say, “Europe.” Checkmate.
It would not be the slightest bit unreasonable or inaccurate to say that my mother and stepfather behave like they are the Dr. and Mrs. Dolittle of the Midwest. And by that I mean, I’m 90% certain they believe they can speak to animals. I also very seriously suspect that sometimes, on a full moon on Friday the 13th at midnight when there’s a double rainbow, they hear them talk back. There is no other logical explanation for the amount of conversations that take place between human and canine in my household.
Around 30-50% of all words spoken here daily are directed at the dog. My “roommates” also know the name and geographic location of every other four-legged creature within a 5 mile radius of our doorstep, and which ones Sparky has made his bitches. They may not be able to tell you when their middle child is be returning from a summer on the west coast (Hi Lauren!), but they would be more than happy to regale you with an account of the neighborhood chipmunk’s ongoing struggle with rapid weight gain. The end.
P.S.- While we aren’t on the topic of Steve Irwin even a little bit, here’s an awesome Steve Irwin video a coworker introduced me to last week…
It has been a long time since I have posted here for a variety of reasons, namely that I had nothing good to say. I still don’t really have anything good to say, but I have found a new source of inspiration: moving back in with my parents.
Hence, the title of what I’m sure will be an enthralling series of posts, all to be filed under the tagline, “My Mother is a Crazy Person.” I would like to preface this by stating that I adore my mom; she is a far better person than I will ever be. If there is an airline hierarchy to get to heaven, she will be flying JetBlue. That said, let’s get this party started shall we?
How many lawn ornaments do you see in the above picture? If you said any number less than 6, sorry, you lose. Here’s the best part: I took that picture using the extended view option on my phone, yet I was still only able to capture around 1/3 of the knickknacks currently residing in our back yard. And no, I’m not exaggerating. That’s just how she rolls.
This has been an ongoing dance between my mother and I for years now. She’ll bring home something new, force me to come see how FANTASTIC it looks, then get upset when I am forced to tell her, once again, that I do not support this sh*t. It is the outdoor garden person version of hoarding. Walking through my back yard is like an acid trip laced with some NyQuil wrapped up in a Tim Burton movie. But like seriously, aren’t the flowers pretty?
P.S.- I lied, I actually used my mom’s phone to take the pictures as starving children in China who have no phones wouldn’t even want my phone. I know, I know, it was cruel. It’s like trampling someone with their own horse. Unless that horse is a mini horse. That would be adorable and probably a lot of fun.