I follow you already, so I promise I will read your posts (and watch your GLORIOUS basset hound videos) anyway. Please stop “paying to pin”. If no one does it, it will go away.
PS: Hey Mohney, remember when you said your team was going to hire some writers? That’s what you should be pinning to everyone’s dash. Pin to pay.
PPS: As irritated as I am, I’m not unfollowing. THIS TOO SHALL PASS.
PPPS: I STILL LOVE YOU ALL.
If my response to every long-winded statement you make is to feign agreement with a wide-eyed “well, there you go,” I am probably so bored and uncomfortably trapped by the conversation you are forcing upon me, I am contemplating eating my own face to escape.
This is exactly the sort of time-waster to which I would normally commit myself, but today I am in air travel gridlock.
How about animated GIFs of all the “Spotlight” tumblrs laughing at the rest of us as they wipe sparkly (and exquisitely fragranced) poops from their perfectly shaped asses with triple-ply blog-to-book deals and all-expense-paid tickets to NY Fashion Week?
I’d really love to to see this incorporated as a feature on Tumblr so I can easily trigger it after a particularly bad post.
Better believe I’ll be using this on the regs.
I mean, I’m all for licentiousness and seizing the carp and lord knows I’ve pumped my body full of untold and untested preservatives, but here’s what I did that I’m going to gloat about to all of you until the day I die:
July 8, 1996, I quit smoking. The first time. The only time.
I smoked at least a half pack a day for 10 years, but I have never smoked again since my quitday and I will never smoke again. The person that smoked is a different person. You will never, ever, ever see me smoke a cigarette. And, tiresome though it may sound, as a personal rule, I don’t help others bum smokes nor do I lend people money for cigarettes, nor do I even take their money and go purchase them on their behalf. I don’t smoke spliffs nor anything that involves tobacco. I will not even knowingly have one puff. My self-defined boundaries clearly prohibit that, and I’m kinda sorta super glad.
Nowadays, when someone asks me to hold a cigarette, I brandish it stiffly in front of me like an Ebola-infected blow torch that - if it doesn’t burn down the grain silos - will probably break Pa Ingalls’ heart.
OBVS, although I’m tobacco-free, I smoke weed with both a wild and purposeful abandonment, so judge me accordingly, but whenever I’m in some kind of personal crisis and I wonder if I can handle it, no matter what I need to do, I never doubt myself and my ability to just deal. Because I did that, and it was one of the hardest* things I ever trained myself to do.
And because I did that, I believe all the way down to my bones that I can do quite literally ANYTHING. Nowadays, every single time I need to do something and I’m not sure I have it in me, I say “BITCH, YOU QUIT SMOKING, YOU CAN DO ANYTHING,” and I straighten up and smile, because I CAN. Because of what I proved to myself 14 years ago, no matter what I need to make happen, I really believe I can.
HEZ PRO-TIP: ^THIS^
(*And the proudest. Hence this post. And you know what? All the smart girls agree.)