Dear Wannabe Michael Phelps,
I wanted to take some time out of my heinously exciting and busy life to dote on a topic that visually assaults me every time I go on Instagram. Mind you, I follow some pretty dreadful people on these social media sites, something that needs to be examined thoroughly by my personal intern who I’ve recently hired.
I’ll make this short and sweet because I have a high-class luncheon to attend to (Kraft mac ’n’ cheese on my stove.) I get that everyone has their thing and for some people like you, Wannabe Michael Phelps, that is all kinds of drugs. That is seriously rad for you and I sincerely hope it’s working out in conjunction with your life goals but my God, is it absolutely necessary to post pictures on the internet of you doing it?
What you do in your private time is none of our business. You don’t see me posting pictures of myself or anyone else making out with my cardboard cut out of Edward Cullen (just kidding we seriously don’t do that…) and even if we did, it’s not illegal, I checked. As I type this, I can almost hear you thinking, “Why don’t you just stop following them/me?” and the answer is simple. It’s because I can’t. It’s like a car crash, the only difference here is I will probably screen shot it and send it to my friends.
You look stupid. You make your friends look stupid. And if you ever want to have a high-ranking job you are actually more stupid than the pictures make you look.
Just some food for thought. One more thing you can do to look like an absolute blockhead, I suppose. And if you are one of my friends and you do this (just kidding I don’t hang out with people like you, WMP), just know I will give your name to my intern immediately and she will delete you from all aspects of my personal, physical and spiritual life.
Make love not brainless Instagram pics, people.