Hashtaggery Gone Awry

If you have to use hashtags to make a point on social media, read the hashtag to yourself before posting it:

#cosmeticsexchange = cosmetics exchange OR cosmetic sex change?

#cathater = cat hater OR misspelled catheter?

#carbeater = carb eater OR car beater?

Advertisements

Hotties and Notties

Ladies, if you have to post pictures with your friends on social media, make sure you’re the prettiest one in the picture. (Sorry. Someone had to say this.)

You know you have some uggo pals out there… Drag ’em out from under their bridges and take some pics with you as the shining star!

(Yes, this means that when Kimmie posts a picture of you and her on Instagram, she thinks she’s hotter than you.)

Yumlicious Ranch!!

If you have to take pictures of your food, don’t tell people you’re a food blogger. You’re not. You’re a douche with a blog, just like everyone else. No one is paying you to write about the pan-fried scallops at Red Lobster. Here are some other things to keep in mind:

1) Chances are that your mom and your Aunt Gertie are the only ones who have ever read any of your brilliant commentary.

2) Not one single person has ever said, “Oh! What a masterful use of Instagram! Bronze freckle twist was the ideal filter to capture the essence of the eggplant parmigiana! I must get to Olive Garden immediately and mention this incredible review!”

3) If you tell the waitstaff you’re a food blogger, keep in mind that they’ve heard that from more than their fair share of randoms–and you may end up with some coughy in your coffee.

4) When [if] you do actually get to the writing (or, heaven forbid, the YouTubing) of your review, know this: reviews are, by nature, subjective, but partial objectivity will help your case immensely. The second you call the salsa ranch (ugh) yummy (yum-o, etc.), I will discount everything you have to say about the dish. Fact: ranch dressing is absolutely revolting.

5) Yelp is not a blog. Let me be very clear: if you post your restaurant reviews to Yelp (Urbanspoon, etc.), you ARE NOT a food blogger. You have submitted a restaurant review. Also, if your “review” says something like “omg yumlicious cheese lol brb wtf blah blah ranch,” you are one of the people who are clogging the series of tubes we call the web with ridiculous drivel.

Foot Selfies

If you have to take pictures of your feet, would you please not post them on social media so other people have to look at them?

1) Feet are gross. Everyone thinks so, except those pervs with foot fetishes–and if you’re posting foot pictures to please them, you’re even sicker than they are.

2) Feet are ugly. You probably don’t realize it, but the fact that your feet look different from other people’s probably means that yours look odd/strange/different/ugly to other people.

3) No, it doesn’t matter if you just got a pedicure. Saying “painted my piggies!!!! lol omg ❤ <3" does NOT make your feet adorable.

Is there even one legitimate reason to take pictures of your feet? Yes. There are two, actually:

1) Tattoos on the ankle and/or the top of the foot. It is completely permissible to post a picture of a tattoo. When possible, please let the viewer know before opening the picture that there is a foot (or feet) present.

2) The second reason doesn't involve putting it out there on social media. Foot snapshots are allowed if a person is tracking the size of a mole/spot/lesion/anomaly on the skin's surface in order to support a medical diagnosis.

Keep your feet in your shoes and off the web. Thank you.

Love,
EVERYONE

Nice to Meat You

If you have to be vegan, could you please just shut up about it?

Is it the taste? I get that you have a glass of wine (or don’t drink at all) because you don’t like the taste of beer, but I’ve NEVER heard a vegan/vegetarian say they don’t eat meat because they don’t like the taste of bacon. It’s always some bleeding heart story about which my meat-loving self could not begin to care.

Is it because veganism/vegetarianism is against popular opinion (and logic, but that’s another story) that they have to be so outspoken? Maybe, but guess what, folks…you don’t have to blather on about it. Here’s an example: everyone seems to love them for some reason, but I hate the Beatles. The difference here is that I don’t tell everyone and try to convince them that their taste in music is stupid or wrong or unenlightened. I just silently [internally] smile, knowing that other people like crappy music.

Do they feel like they’re doing everyone a service by saying the rest of us are terrible people and we should all watch Food Inc.? Ugh. No one needs to hear your personal PSA.

Recognize that choosing to not eat meat is just that–a choice. It’s a personal choice. I’m not going to say a darn thing when you order pasta with marinara at dinner, so you’d better shut your mouth about my steak.

Spritzing in Public

If you have to wear perfume, cologne, overly scented lotion, or body spray (this includes Axe), please do not apply your scent of choice in a public space. This includes public restrooms, elevators, cubicle farms, enclosed parking garages, copy rooms, stairwells, dressing rooms, waiting rooms, and coat closets.

You may be spritzing or lathering your dermis and/or your clothes because you forgot to shower, you intentionally didn’t shower, or you’re desperately trying to capture the attention of Margo five cubes over, but just quit it. Apply your crappy stench at home. I’m tired of choking on your stink.

Don’t Speak

If you have to make an idiotic comment to a pregnant woman, it had better be about something other than what’s going on in her belly. Her belly = her business. You need to shut up about it.

Here’s a list of what NOT to say. We’ll pretend that this is a hypothetical list and I didn’t hear each and every one of these things when I was pregnant.

“You sure it’s not twins?” (5 times a day, every day)

“You’re eating too much, you’re gaining too much weight, and there won’t be clothes that will fit you in three months.” (Mean girl at work)

“You look like you’re about to pop!” (This one started around the 5-month mark. Thanks, everyone.)

“You’d better eat all the [insert junk food name here] while you have an excuse!” (Not an “excuse.” Baby.)

“I can’t believe how big you are!” (I can’t believe how rude you are.)

“Good thing you’ll have the whole summer on maternity leave to lose all that weight.” (Yep. Jumping on an elliptical before leaving the hospital. Moron.)

“Must be nice to be able to take a vacation while the rest of us have to work!” (Vacation? I thought it was called maternity leave.)

“Are you still pregnant?” (Um…?)

“Walking pretty slowly there!” (You would be, too.)

“You’ll go early for sure.” (Thanks, doctor! …Wait. You’re not my doctor? Shut up.)

“Are you going to keep working?” (Nope. Having a baby actually SAVES money! I’m retiring early!)

“My daughter-in-law is due the same time as you, but she’s a lot smaller than you. You’re MUCH bigger, with a bigger frame. She can’t weigh near as much as you.” (Said by a guy)

“My wife weighs 100 pounds and only gained 10 pounds when she was pregnant.” (Good for her? Too bad she’s still married to you.)

“I had a perfect pregnancy…never sick, only gained 19 pounds, easy delivery. So why are you having a c-section again?” (Mutant.)

“You’re getting so big so fast!” (I’m growing a human. What have YOU accomplished today?)

“You look so tired/exhausted/worn out…” (That’s because I AM. Your pointing it out makes me feel SO MUCH better. Also, you’re ugly, and that can’t be fixed by a good night’s sleep.)

Thin Peanut Butter Mint Trefoils

If you have to buy Girl Scout cookies… don’t. Just don’t. Girl Scout cookies are crunchy, disgusting, and not worth the $4 or the 200 calories to get them from the order sheet to your mouth. Also, if your coworker is honestly offended that you didn’t cough up cash to pay for cookies so that little Stephy can get a keychain for selling 100 boxes, you should start hanging with actual grownups at work.

Triple Grande Something?

If you have to order your own drink in front of other people at Starbucks, make sure you know the proper way to describe it. I can’t even offer any tips on how to order correctly; my inability to remember how to order my favorite drink is why I usually end up with a grande decaf coffee. When I get up to the counter, I forget that I want a half-caf skinny cinnamon dolce extra-hot extra words here I have no idea (did I already say skinny?) latte.

A Girl’s Best Frenemy

If you have to buy, receive, or otherwise play a part in the diamond purchasing process, you have to pick the right diamond. The recipient will likely own the diamond for decades and the resale value of engagement rings, frankly, sucks. Therefore, it’s pretty important to pick the right one. Know the 6 Cs of diamonds (Yes, 6. You read it here first, folks.): carat, color, cut, clarity, certification, and cost. Know what’s most important to the recipient and what she would sacrifice in order to get a bigger (clearer, etc.) stone. Would she be happy with a smaller stone if it had no inclusions? Would she accept a slightly yellow stone if it meant it would be bigger?