So I've been out of touch for a while. Whoops. Just because I wasn't blogging doesn't mean stuff wasn't driving me batcrap crazy though. So -
Hey, world? Stop calling things cake that aren’t edible. This is a weird trend that I don't understand. Diaper cake? Not a cake. It’s a stack of rolled up diapers and ribbon. It’s cute and all, but it’s not delicious – in fact, it’s pretty much the opposite. Call it a diaper tower, or a diaper Taj Mahal, or whatever, but it's not a cake. Dishtowel cake? (I’m looking at you, craft nuts on Pinterest.) Not a cake. The towels can be used in the process of making a cake, but they themselves are not cake. Therefore, there is no such thing as a towel cake. These aren’t things – stop trying to make them be things. If somebody showed up at my baby shower or wedding shower or whatever with a cake made out of anything other than sugary confectionary goodness, your ass is getting kicked out until you bring me the real thing. And a real present.
Hey, Facebook? Let’s work on completing our thoughts. I’ve noticed a lot of posts recently about your feelings. Well, no, not your feelings particularly, just feelings in general. You start out with “That feeling when . . . .” and then go on to describe an awkward or uncomfortable situation, without providing any more information. So . . . what about it? What about this feeling? Did you have this experience? Did you enjoy it? Did you dislike it? Why did you feel the need to tell me about it??!! What did we accomplish? Just stoppit. My issues with your use of cryptic song lyrics that are meant to be deep reflections of your feelings, but instead just wind up making me judge your taste in music and remove you from my newsfeed, are issues for another blog another day. And don’t even get me started on how little I care when you constantly post status updates about your many trips to the grocery store and what you ate for lunch.
Hey, Pinterest? We have a fairly new relationship, but already, I’m seeing some red flags. You see, I hate stupid people . . . and you manage to expose me to way more stupid people than I’m comfortable with. You provide me with a lot of cute and enjoyable things I would like to share – but when the pin itself has misspelled words or poor grammar, I not only refuse to pass it along, but I get angry at you for propagating moronic behavior. Get somebody monitoring that junk, and probably I'll pin even more things. Because I don't pin enough as it is . . . even though I'm still not 100% certain as to your actual purpose.
Hey, Dallas Cowboys? Don’t look at me like that. You know what you’ve done.
Sarcasmo.
