A Change of Heart on Selfies, and A Blogger's Birthday Greeting

**I like to look at beautiful things, so this post is dedicated to all you ugly posers who selfie too much. Underscore too much; you shouldn't be, for the love of mercy, doing selfies in the first place.  Alright, so you may have that kind of freedom. But with the kind of awful pictures you are submitting, it looks like you are exercising that freedom in jail. Meanwhile, to my paradise-level goddess friends afflicted with the same conceit, carry on please. You are making my newsfeed prettier. 

Photo from fanpop.com

Why do we have to see you in your most well-prepared, heavily dolled-up with crazy, blow dried hair, in your bathroom, when we know, for real, you do not look like that, nowhere like that, in real life? I do not get it, all 1,000 hourly images of it. Maybe I do, but thinking about it is like 10th century lobotomy. It is hurting my brain. So I'll save myself the suffering and find time to masturbate instead. 

No, I won't unfriend you or hide you from my newsfeed just yet. I am somewhat masochistic, and this sexy constitution demands that nature of hurting. 

Anyway, humility is a lesson learned best with experience, so I'll stop imagining I can "preach" your narcissism away. By and by, you will meet several real-life goddesses who will shame your make believe, self-appointed beauty. For the time being, you go ahead and Photosh... your selfies to your vain heart's content. See if I fucking care anymore, ugly bitch.

However, I will continue to have fun, devilish fun, with the insults. Your uploaded witchcraft begs for it. Okay, so you took the time to look dazzling with all that unnatural glow light. But you have to go through several lighting effects before, after thirty minutes of indecisiveness,  you decided to upload one heavily edited picture with half a heart behind it. Maybe you were thinking this kind of light failed to bring out your best features. Oh hell no. The lighting is not the problem. It is what's being lit. It should be left in the dark. 

Image from amovieaweek.com

I hate to break it to you, but your selfies are not pretty enough. Truth is, even after the painstaking assembly order process that your selfies go through before being uploaded, it's still the farthest thing from pretty. It's a glacial period away from beautiful. Why do you even try? I'm sure you already know that no amount of glowing light will fix your nose, or unblemish your pockmarks, or rosy whiten your complexion, or stretch your height, or give you sex appeal, or straighten your teeth, or increase your sperm count, or what have you. That necromancy, and I shudder to call it by it's unholy name, Photosh... curse that art of the devil (crosses self), that implement of the Anti Christ, can only do so much raising of the dead. However, like all demonic arts, it is still possessed of several limitations. Like you. And these limitations, namely you, are giving me hours of countless fun.

I know I am the farthest thing from pretty, but I do not do selfies, so fuck you. And if you cannot be restrained from giving us taste cancer with your hourly selfies, then I might as well take your pictures for their butt-of-jokes quality, and have a grand time laughing.

Photo from vimeo.com

And this is why I have decided to dwell on the lighter side of things. No, it is not the "glow light witchcraft" sort of light, but the consequential insult humor which is prosperous with Photosh... "it's" limitations. And by "limitations," sweetheart, I am referring to you. And people like you who seriously imagine they can get away with the obviously embellished. So, you know what, you keep your uploads coming. I encourage you to go for it, upload your mostly Photosh... selfies as often as you want, as much as you want, oh please do, and I'm sure we're guaranteed at least a few more hours of belly aching laughter.









Meanwhile, the only reason why I am posting this screen shot is because of it's relevance to my blogging. I just turned 33 yesterday, and I love all my well-wishers with equal measures of love and suspicion. I kid. With the word "suspicion." Obviously. Anyway, Andoy, that sweet dick with his bullseye sense of humor, might as well have given me some semblance of actual purpose. Which is exactly why I am posting this screenshot. It's like some makeshift tattoo of sorts, and it requires permanence. So here.