A few afternoons ago I was about to check my email when I saw this page. The first thing I noticed was the mention of male pixies, which always interest me. Then, I saw it.
My eyes! They burn!
As someone who regularly wears mismatched sweatshirts, skinny jeans, sweatpants, and sandals, I really don’t know much about fashion. But this, this was definitely wrong. When I laid my eyes on it, I couldn’t explain why – I couldn’t even really formulate a logical thought – but I knew it deep down. Deep down, in my intolerant, unaccepting, horribly superior mind, I knew that this was absolutely sickening. Continue reading
My inbox after being freshly pressed. And that’s only the first page, after deleting all of the “like” and “follow” notifications…
I planned my victory. Write a slightly controversial rant targeting America’s favorite past time, publish it under the guise of an innocently idealistic teenager, and sit back and watch the WordPress editors do their job. It was almost too easy. After two years of toiling away, I have finally won. Continue reading
So I’ve been somewhat absent and probably will continue to be for this upcoming week due to exams. Don’t misinterpret me though, it’s not like I’ve quit blogging or anything – I’m just busy.
Speaking of misinterpretations, have you ever had that moment where you realize that something you’ve said or something you’ve done may have come off the wrong way, but it’s too late to change it? Like one time I wrote a note to my friend asking if he wanted to hang out, and somehow the meaning of the note became misconstrued to the point where he assumed I was asking him on a date. And my friendship with him ceased to exist from that point on…
Gotta love Cyanide and Happiness.
The true reason I decided to make misinterpretations the topic of this post is that recently I’ve been a bit stressed out. I’m a very, very, very nice guy – just ask any of my friends, they’ll tell you
(wait… I have friends?) However, when stress starts to build up I can get a little snippy and sarcastic. But only a little bit! Like instead of saying “please pass the ketchup”, I’ll say, “does it look like I have time to dip this french fry in non-existent tomato sauce!? Hand over the ketchup, freak.” Kidding! That’s something Scarlett O’Hara would say, not me. (yes… I’m reading Gone with the Wind. Longest. Book. Ever. But not bad, actually.)
Anyway, have you ever had someone misinterpret you? I think people are assuming I’m slightly sardonic, but it’s only because of the four killer exams I have this week. Then again, after re-reading my posts about why high school relationships fail, it might not be just the exams.