Pictures: a How-Not-To

Sometimes when I'm carousing through the frivolity and stupidity of Facebook, soaking it all in until I become inebriated with enough disgust to stop, I find myself browsing through some girls photo album devoted to pictures of themselves and stuff they've done, named something like "summerrrrrr :))) <3" or maybe some snippet of obscure lyricism. Most of the pictures don't phase me. I've seen the duck face, and I've seen the pretty girl "lets hold each-others hips and lean out while tilting our heads way too much," and I've seen the mirror self portrait with the "I'm trying to make it seem like I'm displeased with my appearance by making a distorted face" twist, and even more numerous so I've seen the reassuring train of "cute! :)" and "hot dang!"

I'm an observant person. Don't judge me.

But something that always catches me off guard is this picture that some third party took of girl one (and perhaps her sassy counterpart, girl two, and boy-crazy girl three) from behind with their necks straining to even make eye contact with the camera.

Lets be honest here girls. Why are you taking pictures of your bootays?

When I see this I think to myself the dialogue that might have been going on that night while you and your friends were taking these pictures.

Girl 1: "Hey, wanna take like, two hundred pictures of ourselves, upload the twenty that we decide we don't like ugly in, post them on Facebook with captions like "Oh God, we're so ugly!" and comment "plzz delete this!" even though we totally agreed to upload them?

Girl 2: "Hay gurl hay fo sho you know that's how we DOOOOO!"

Girl 3: "Only if I get to stick my tongue out in half of them! Guys love tongues!"

*all three* "Woo hoo!"

Girl 2: "Hecks to the yes! What kind you wanna take first girlfrans?"

Girl 1: "I think we should like, all stand in a row and like, lean in and like, make duck faces."
Girl 3: "I bet the guys are gonna love our duck faces!"

Girl 1: "This is fun! Next lets all turn around and make crazy faces even though the purpose of the picture is to show off our totally hawt jeans!"

Girl 3: "Guys do love hawt jeans! Especially on us!"

*all three giggle*

Girl 2: "Oooh girls I hope you brought you low cut shirts, I'm mo' def' feelin' some pictures of us laying on the ground so we can show the world our cleavage! Mmhmm!"

Girl 1: "Deal, but like, lets finish these pictures of our butts first, I wanna get these pants off, they're like, four sizes too small!"

Girl 3: "Guys love small pants!"

This is a dramaticized re-telling, of course. For the sake of the reader I made it painfully obvious what was going on. Even in my wildest, saddest dreams nobody says this stuff (out loud (I hope)).

What I'm trying to say is you look ridiculous. Stop it. I could probably just totally ignore all the stuff in the world that bugs me, and I'm sure there's some girl out there going "Oh em gee, if he doesn't like it he can just not look at it." Lets be honest here. I'm trying to help you. These pictures are like a giant cliffhanger creeping out of the nostril of your existence. I'd be a bad person not to inform you. There's a better way to show off your body, and it doesn't involve the internet in any way. Go out to a party. Wear trashy shorts. I don't care. At least you can tell when some creepsack scumtrash nastybag old man is checking you out IRL.

Yeah, think about that one for awhile. I'm just trying to keep you safe.

And one last thing. Any girl I see doing a duck-face automatically triggers a subconscious reaction that replaces their lovely little head with this:

I hope you all know that in my mind, you're Steven Tyler.

Good day to you all.

Encounters with Nature on the Way Home from Work

It was a night like any other, as I walked, neither briskly nor slowly, towards mah humble abode from CiCi's Pizza. My legs were weak from standing for four hours at work, but I was feeling otherwise content; the three hour nap I had earlier in the day kept me feeling awake, and my tum-tum was full of num-nums. Suddenly, a wild rabbit appears! Or perhaps not. Upon closer inspection, it wasn't your ordinary street rabbit. No, this was a large bunny rabbit, the kind you keep as a pet. It's adowabwe fwuffy white tail bounced up and down as he hopped along gaily. I approached slowly, with curiosity abounding. Oddly enough, the big-eared fluff-ball surprised me with it's not-running-away-ness as I neared his little twitchy nose and shifty whiskers. He eyed me, then continued with his grass-munching. I stepped once; he hopped away once. I stepped again; he hopped away once more. I got close enough to touch his soft fuzzy-wuzzy hair, and then he was all like "hey bro, I'm just tryna eat some grass over here, do you mind?" (of course, he said this with his big round eyes, and not a voice. I sadly didn't discover a talking rabbit). We continued our little dance of one step one hop for near five minutes, and I attempted to persuade him to come closer, to no avail, with some grass I plucked. He eventually grew tired of me looming over him like a freaky bald thing that walks on it's hind legs, and he scampered off to do other rabbity things.

Just minutes later, I was busy making a moron of myself trying to open the locked back door. I eventually wisened up and made my way to the side garage door, which is left open about five inches so our cats can come and go. I pushed my way through the makeshift barricade put in place so it wouldn't fly about in the event of high winds and found myself not being able to see anything. I widened my eyes as much as I could, expecting somehow to catch more light rays or something. Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of the devilish beady gleam of the eyes of a raccoon. My initial reaction was something along the lines of "hey kitty." My second reaction was "AAAAAIIIEIIEIEIEIIEAIEIEIEEEH!!!" I quickly tried to close the door, which in hindsight, I had no idea what the heck I'd do if I managed to lock the thing in there. Keep it as a pet? Probably. Anyways, I was unsuccessful in closing the door because of the block of wood that was totally put there to keep it open. In the process however, I found a big weird stick with a funky crook at the end, which was good enough for me. I swung it around frantically, not really wanting to hurting to thing, but still sort of freaking out. He almost fell into a hole that I'm not really sure of its purpose, but still made his way through the open door. I don't know that he'll ever be coming back, because I know that I sure wouldn't.