Welcome to those of you who are just joining this scattered-brain fiasco that is this blog, and welcome back to those of you who stay catching up to your
daily weekly monthly seriously I don’t know obviously how to keep up posts. You’ve been missed. Honestly, truly.
And welcome to the nightmare that is 2017.
Alright, so depending who you ask “nightmare” might be a tad dramatic, but it’s pretty damn bad.
Actually, no–“nightmare” is fairly appropriate.
The fact alone that we’re in a new year without current Prince facial expressions is horrific enough.
And since the rants and eye rolls have been kept at bay since 2014, it’s only fair to jump headfirst into this disaster like being unattended at a queso stand.
No Man’s Land
America has always been, and always will be, an interesting place to live. And November 8th proved that more than ever. For those living on Bikini Bottom, what date is November 8th, you ask?
The date your timeline lost its’ mind, for better and definitely for worse. Some woke up, some are in need of a nap.
And ALL are suddenly possessed political analysts–all. You know shit is real when even Kim Kardashian has to put the iPhone down from selfie taking to post statistics. Yourself also included, guilty enough, minus the degree or experience to do so.
But it’s cool, because the apparent current leader doesn’t either.
You’ve never been one for major politics, but if there was ever a time for public speech, common sense and awareness, it’s now.
You know who else has something to say?: the
hag of a former coworker you always felt over the years had a white sheet ironed and pressed in their broom closet trolling their way into your mentions to voice their opinion no one tagged them about.
“Get out of America if you can’t live the American lifestyle“.
Funny thing is, from someone raised by a blue-eyed maternal grandmother of Creole and Native-American descent, first instinct is to drop a line of whose America it really is (since we’re playing ‘I Hit It First’) and which destination coordinates she can catch hands outside.
Not so funny thing about fools: you can’t really argue with one.
Bottom line, it’s never worth the level drop.
And your elders raised you better than that.
Send them away with class and one less friend in the Facebook basket.
Alternative facts, indeed.
Panic For My Valentine
So once a year, every year–your friends, family, coworkers and even the dude that serves you your matcha green tea lattes every Monday/Tuesday after pay day like to complain about how utterly single and alone they are on February 14th.
More than usual.
Because disregard being single on the 13th, the 12th, the week before–TODAY IS VALENTINE’S DAY and suddenly paying for your own steak fajita and floral arrangements is simply unbearable.
You start seeing a flood to links like 7 Dildos That Keep You Busy For Valentine’s Day, 10 Movies To Make You Feel Less Alone On Valentine’s Day and getting alerts from that married cousin that lives in Vegas who tagged you in a win a date contest from a page that certainly seems like a spam account. Your unofficial boo suddenly begins to think you’re upset with them because you haven’t answered back fast enough therefore you’re mad about not getting flowers for “the big day” when in reality you were just busy.
AKA watching Beyonce’ videos.
And worst of all: “GAL-entine” invites.
Relax. It’s Tuesday. You know what Tuesday means?
Another day you get paid to be less poor.
Two-piece specials at Popeye’s.
Some show about Chicago is on.
A day to check out the Chance The Rapper album because seriously where did this guy come from?
Unless the 14th comes with free Coachella tickets and a lifetime supply of mozzarella sticks for all the folks on the other side of the relationship fence, don’t sweat it.
People who don’t care about Beyonce’
“Ugh, she’s so overrated”.
“I could not care less about Beyonce’ and these twins”.
We don’t care about the fact that you’re in need of a coffee and a vacation every week, but that doesn’t stop from being told about it every week–now does it?
Beyonce’ works, goes on vacation, procreates and shares her moments on social media just like we all do. She is just like the rest of us–only better. Spoken like a true Stan.
Cashin’ Me Ousside
It immediately made us ask the question who the hell still watches Dr. Phil, became an instant meme and was funny for about 5 days until we realized an unruly teen is now famous and signing multiple deals for being a cotton-headed ninnymuggins.
So you did it–you finally signed up for that membership you’ve been promising to buckle down and get.
Have you gone yet? That’s another story.
One person who will NOT let you forget either is the gentleman in the training department, calling you to discuss your schedule and your long-term goals. And no, being a “boss ass bitch” unfortunately does not count.
They want to talk fitness, diet, and how to reach your best body weight. And money.
And you thought the harassment was over once you signed up.
Ranting is a workout in itself.
Until the next one,