5 Things I Will Never Do On The Internet
1. Pay for porn
Whenever I stumble upon a site that requires me to pay in order to view porn, I shout to my screen “RUDE BOY” and move on. I’m sorry but masturbating should cost no $$$. There are so many amazing websites out there that let me orgasm at no cost. Why would I ever pay?
Never say never (by Brandy) but as of this moment, I have yet to actually use a website like OkCupid to go on a date. Why? Because I’m weird and old-fashioned and want to meet someone while fighting over the last banana at a grocery store. Don’t judge! Let me experience my 24-year-old optimism and stubbornness while I still can, okay? I’m actually envious of the people who can do it. It’s very brave to meet some random offline and risk being judged. It gives me heart palpations just typing about it.
3. Use Foursquare
Who? What? When? Where? Why? Foursquare, I don’t get you. I don’t get why people want everyone to know they’re checking into California Pizza Kitchen or the mall or Walgreens. Those are my private boring activities. Plus, whenever I think of Foursquare, I think of places you shouldn’t check into like Planned Parenthood or your ex-boyfriend’s house.
4. Update my Livejournal
I kept a Livejournal for eight #dark years and it’s safe to say that those daze are over. I tried updating it awhile ago but found myself physically unable to. My fingers just stopped working and my body was like, “Um, sorry. You can’t. You’re cut off from blogging about polaroids and sushi.” Sometimes I wish I still led a life that made sense for Livejournal but those moments are few and far between.
5. Write a mean comment about an article
Before I started working for the internet, I had never left a comment (good or bad) on anything before. I remember when I interned for this big blog two years ago, they made sign up to be a commenter and I was like, “Why? No.” and never did it. I just didn’t see the point. Commenters had become so stigmatized and could be so harsh. I didn’t want to add to the storm. I also just never felt the desire to tell some writer dude how I felt, especially if those feelings were negative. Feeling them myself was obviously enough. But, you know, obviously the cheese stands alone with this one.
A | A | A
Experiment so you know exactly what you want, but keep your number low.
Go break a leg!
…Why? Because JAMES FRANCO, that’s why.
Until this year, I’d always though that my depression wasn’t really “depression,” but more a product of me being anxious and unhappy in my (static) environment.