homeHey party peoples. How's it going? Good? Good.
Today is going to be one of those days.
You know, one of those days that I go off on a tangent about something that has struck my last nerve. Who's ready to ramble? This girl. Lezdoit.
So, guess what?
I'm not perfect. I know, such a shocker, right? *insert hair flip here*
And guess what? Neither are you. There, I said it.
If you think you are perfect, you are full of it. (oh damn, who's already pissed at me?)
Sometimes elements of my life suck. Moments of this week, in particular, have been plain sucky. During the course of these particularly sucky times I have seen some people (yes, vague. Sorry, kiddos) do some things that are actually so obnoxious it pains me.
So, obviously instead of taking of bottle of wine to the face and bitching to a girlfriend, I'm coming here to spew some word vomit all over my blog's face.
Wait, who am I kidding? I totally did the first part, too. Whatevs.
Now, I'm not saying I am a fan of those of you who use Facebook as your virtual tissue but, for the love of the new iPhone 5, please stop cramming how PERFECT your life is down people's throats.
There is a difference between being genuinely happy and thinking you are perfect.
The latter being the purpose of this post.
If you are the one who is constantly tweeting, facebooking, blogging, twitting or whatever the hell other social media outlet you prefer, about how AMAZING and FLAWLESS your life is - I'm pointing my boney, imperfect finger straight at you.
I also call bullshit.
If you feel the need to constantly push people to believe you are living in Pleasantville, I believe there's a real good chance you are covering up something. Like an emotional dead body.
Or something. (wait, what?)
"Your continuous tweets about the awesomeness that is your life lead me to suspect it's exaggeration."
...but seriously. I need this whole I shit rainbows facade to flush itself already.
We all have our probz and we all have ourweeks days.
My girl Hannah Montana knows it...
Look at this tall drink of perfection.
Not so perfect after all.
So homegirl likes to snuggle with her sexpot body guard, and what?
I'm not saying the occasional I love life/boyfriend/mom/Honey Boo Boo, tweet and/or post is obnoxious. Because that's not what I'm ranting over today - so don't get your sensitive panties in a twist.
I love a good sprinkle of happiness from my girls to adorn my feeds from time to time and I give a big "you go, Glen Coco" to those updates.
Everything in moderation, I say.
Basically, the bottom line I'm getting to here is that the whole I'm so perfectly perfectness of perfect has gotten under my skin and I'm pleading with the feed flooders to cut it out. Go be happy, I'm happy for you. I appreciate your optimism - but if you continue to shove your perfectness down my throat I'm going to go ahead and call you a liar liar pants on fire in my head.
And make vague tweets about you. Just kidding... kind of.
Who hates me and is going to go leave an anonymous comment and unfollow me now?
My apologies for not being perfect.
And guess what? Neither are you. There, I said it.
If you think you are perfect, you are full of it. (oh damn, who's already pissed at me?)
Sometimes elements of my life suck. Moments of this week, in particular, have been plain sucky. During the course of these particularly sucky times I have seen some people (yes, vague. Sorry, kiddos) do some things that are actually so obnoxious it pains me.
So, obviously instead of taking of bottle of wine to the face and bitching to a girlfriend, I'm coming here to spew some word vomit all over my blog's face.
Wait, who am I kidding? I totally did the first part, too. Whatevs.
Now, I'm not saying I am a fan of those of you who use Facebook as your virtual tissue but, for the love of the new iPhone 5, please stop cramming how PERFECT your life is down people's throats.
There is a difference between being genuinely happy and thinking you are perfect.
The latter being the purpose of this post.
If you are the one who is constantly tweeting, facebooking, blogging, twitting or whatever the hell other social media outlet you prefer, about how AMAZING and FLAWLESS your life is - I'm pointing my boney, imperfect finger straight at you.
I also call bullshit.
If you feel the need to constantly push people to believe you are living in Pleasantville, I believe there's a real good chance you are covering up something. Like an emotional dead body.
Or something. (wait, what?)
"Your continuous tweets about the awesomeness that is your life lead me to suspect it's exaggeration."
...but seriously. I need this whole I shit rainbows facade to flush itself already.
We all have our probz and we all have our
My girl Hannah Montana knows it...
Look at this tall drink of perfection.
Not so perfect after all.
So homegirl likes to snuggle with her sexpot body guard, and what?
I'm not saying the occasional I love life/boyfriend/mom/Honey Boo Boo, tweet and/or post is obnoxious. Because that's not what I'm ranting over today - so don't get your sensitive panties in a twist.
I love a good sprinkle of happiness from my girls to adorn my feeds from time to time and I give a big "you go, Glen Coco" to those updates.
Everything in moderation, I say.
Basically, the bottom line I'm getting to here is that the whole I'm so perfectly perfectness of perfect has gotten under my skin and I'm pleading with the feed flooders to cut it out. Go be happy, I'm happy for you. I appreciate your optimism - but if you continue to shove your perfectness down my throat I'm going to go ahead and call you a liar liar pants on fire in my head.
And make vague tweets about you. Just kidding... kind of.
Who hates me and is going to go leave an anonymous comment and unfollow me now?
My apologies for not being perfect.
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