Drunken, Ratchet Selfies

I couldn’t imagine hanging out with the same people for years and still needing to get drunk in order to have a good time. What kind of friendship is that if it’s only activated with alcohol? Because then what happens when you realize you have a drinking problem, you’re going broke from buying 10 tall cans and 4 pints of whiskey every week, and then occasionally going to the bar? Does your friendship just end when you start making healthy decisions? Or does your health end when you decide that you want to maintain relationships with certain people?

This might be a hypocritical conjecture, and for some people their early 20’s are just a phase. But for others, their late 20’s are the standard for the rest of their lives. Yet for others, high school was the highlight of anything that has ever happened to them. I, on the other hand, am perfectly content with dealing with friends of all levels while totally sober. This is a revelation.


Is anybody good at Vine? You know, that new app that’s basically Instagram except (gasp!) it moves! (It’s like the 1920’s all over again.) It’s kinda a really shitty app, and it’s compounded by the fact that I haven’t seen a single good Vine since I got on there. Even searching hashtags just brings up a bunch of narcissistic selfies by bloated looking white people (occasionally accompanied with their kids) talking about some nonsense. Apparently your 60 seconds of fame just got edited down to 6 seconds of fame, and it doesn’t even look good. Come on, people! Vines require a bit of creativity, a bit of forward thinking, some planning, some precision, a little bit of thought and a whole lot more than you just selfying on your soap box about some inane bullshit that the rest of the Internet doesn’t care about.

Can everybody please be better at Vine before I delete that app? Thank you! 


There’s a small possibility that one of my ex’s got engaged and left the state. I have no real way of confirming this, because we’re not social media friends, but this has quickly turned into yet another successful attempt to feel sorry for myself. Despite being completely unfounded, I’ve thought (for about 10 minutes) about how the first real boyfriend I ever had (I was 18, it lasted 3 years) is now moving onto greener pastures to get, of all things, married. Somehow this has become emblematic of something beyond our bygone failed relationship. This is a Viking funeral of my (somewhat) teenage innocence. All that girlish hope I had has gone up in flames, and with it the last vestiges of any spite that I held. He’s off in adult land, talking about matrimony and shit, and I’m here, still frollicking in my almost fetid youth. Part of me is sad, in a sort of nostalgic, looking back on my teen years and the dumb things I did and the dumb people I dated way. Part of me is jealous that my exboyfriend is getting married, especially before me, but another part of me knows that I have something that he’ll never be able to get back: being in your 20s. Which pretty much explains why he’s getting married in the first place. I just want to fast forward to the part where his marriage is falling apart, so I can laugh and feel some sort of sadistic happiness from it. 


Hey, if you’re going to talk shit about me, why say it to my friends? Clearly you want to start something, which I don’t even really respect. If you’re stressing enough to go out of your way to talk shit about me to my friends, and of course my friends are going to tell me what you said – what do you expect? Do you want me to hit you? Is that what you want? Do you want me to pull a knife on you at a party and yell at you about how dumb I think you are? Do you want me to show up at a party with a gun? Is that going to make you feel good? Would you enjoy it if I wrote a nasty blog post about you on here? Do you think you’re going to outsmart me? Really, what is that all about? Think about it. Before you talk shit about me to my friends, think about it. These things get back to me.