Tumblr is the bane of humanity's existence.

Getting a Tumblr was probably one of the worst decisions I've made in the past four or so months. I had become unbelievably addicted to my computer, and the Internet. Just when I believed I could kick Internet addiction's ass.

I got a Tumblr out of the notion that I would be able to connect to certain friends who liked to spend most of their time on Tumblr. I was terribly wrong.

Little did I know the addictive qualities of finding stupidly, cleverly, ornately hilarious gifs and pictures and liking them. Little did I know how long it took to find a theme I actually liked. Little did I know that even if I spend 6 hours trying to code my own theme, it's still not going to work.

There is a strange rush to seeing your posts liked and reblogged. You even begin to sell out a bit in order to have your posts reblogged. It turns into a game where you hand pick the correct tags that will ensure you reblogs. It is no longer a personal blog, but a bunch of pictures and words that only the Tumblr community cares about, such as: Nutella, Harry Potter, the 90's, and the occasional kitten rolling inside a trashcan. Most don't even create original posts. It is mostly a reblog of those mentioned above.

I strive each to make most of my posts my original making. Although it's hard to get any notice on the things I do care about. I find myself making screencaps of Stand By Me, and Neil Patrick Harris in order to get reblogs. Although I do enjoy HIMYM and NPH, I feel like I've sold my soul for the high of reblogs. Whenever I feel I've posted a good post close to my heart, nobody cares. Nobody likes. Nobody reblogs. But I still keep coming back.

Despite these obvious frustrations, there is something addictive about Tumblr. I'm starting to believe they lace the log-in screen with some sort of visual crack or meth. You are the most vulnerable if you especially don't have a social life. You will spend 6 hours when you only meant to spend a half hour. You will be tempted to check your phone several times a day to get the fix of seeing your material reblogged.

If you sign up, there is no turning back.

*I hope you've gotten the jist that this post is completely sarcastic and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.

Thank You Because The Toilet Isn't Working

Today I took a trip to the bathroom and noticed the only stall with the working toilet paper dispenser is out of order.

And during this little adventure, I noticed something. The sign posted on the wall made absolutely no sense.

Stall out of order.

- Thank You

Thank you? THANK YOU?! What the hell are you thanking me for? I never understood why "thank you" was put after signs like that. Okay, the crapper ain't working. Apparently, you're so happy about it, that you're thanking anyone who read the sign.

Well then, you're welcome.

Dear Justin Bieber

*We need to make some kind of deal. Listen, I don't mind you. I don't hate you, because if I do, it means I actually care about your existence.

But listen here, there has to be something done.

My sister has fallen head over heels for your screechy, scratchy, auto-tune reeking music. And not to mention, she has also fallen head over heels for you. If I have to go through another minute - no - second of hearing your headache inducing tunes, I will personally pay you a visit with an attorney and we will work out something, so I no longer have to hear your voice.

You seem like a nice kid, you really do. But can you please find a way to make yourself less appealing to horny teenage girls so that my sister will fall out of love with you. Or maybe find a way to make your voice more pleasant. I heard that swallowing ten poison frogs makes the voice more velvety and soft. You should try that.

So, I hope we come to an agreement. If not so, you shall be seeing my attorney.


Thank You.



*I do hope, that most of you will realize that this is a joke and should not be taken seriously.