Category: Observations on Life

I’m in college.  I walk to class.  There are lots of other people who do the same.  The following are some observations from my walks to and from class today.

-Do you ever accidentally say something you’re thinking out loud? Today these two girls were walking obnoxiously slowly in front of me, and I accidentally said “Jesus Christ…..” under my breath as I passed by. Apparently it was audible because they only moved out of my way after a very sassy apology.

-So I was Facebook creeping on someone today, someone who I’ve never spoken to in any venue, digital or flesh.  Humorously, the only conclusion I could draw about this person after looking at every single one of his/her profile pictures was,  “What a f******g weirdo.” I realize I’m a horrible person, we’ve acknowledged that, but some people just don’t have a single redeeming value, and thus can only be described as a f******g weirdo. (Don’t worry though, if you’re reading this, you have a redeeming value.) Don’t get me wrong, weirdness can be a good thing, but when it’s not at all funny or entertaining, and utterly unexplainable, that’s when it crosses into the realm of undesirable.

[This is where the picture would go if I hadn’t been too lazy to find one.]

-That awkward moment when you’re walking at a pace that’s just slightly faster than the person in front of you, they’re swinging their arms as they walk, and all of a sudden as you move to pass them they swing their arm a little too far and there is a brief moment of hand-to-junk contact with a stranger.  Yeah that’s always uncomfortable.

-I have never understood the Fraternity and Sorority system, the different letters and such.  Apart from an apparent surplus of doucheassery and pastel, it’s all Greek to me. *rimshot*

Sorry bro, that was an over-generalization for comedic purposes, don’t get your pink, flat front shorts in a twist (you fashionista you). Besides, how fun is the word “doucheassery”??

-Man, I hate it when someone is texting and walking right in front of you when you’re late to class, and they somehow predict your passing maneuvers and block you at every attempt.

-See someone you recognize walking to class, half-assedly say their name.  30 steps later realize that’s not their name.

Socially awkward sophomore,



I Can Haz College?

I haven’t posted in a while.  Things have been.. different, lately. Like I need to tell you, because you were concerned right? Whoever you are. I have a sneaking suspicion that I’ve lost my core base of readers over the bloggishly bleak course of this summer.  ANYWHO–

Pardon the language. I think he instigated the London riots.

Prime Minister is such an unwieldy leadership term. If I was ever a Prime Minister I wouldn’t be Prime Minister Romans no, I would go by Romans Prime.

If there’s anything I’ve learned in the course of my 18–shite, almost 20 now, years of existence, it’s that waffles are never a bad idea.

So the other day at work, like the 7th grader I am on the inside, I decided to add French Vanilla CoffeeMate to my Dr. Pepper.  It actually wasn’t half bad, it just sort of turned chunky and foamy, like a terrible root beer float.  But a terrible root beer float is better than no root beer float… :D

When I set alarms on my phone to wake me up, they always have really condescending messages attached.  I don’t know why, but “wake up, lazyass” does a better job of getting me out of bed than “Alarm 1.” What that says about my personality I probably don’t want to know.

People always complain about the drama in their lives, but I’ve always kind of relished it.  Drama is the spice of life; without it life would be bland and flavorless, but too much and it tastes like shit.

I would feel sorry for you, if you weren’t so effing annoying.

I like to play “Let’s Count the Hair Feathers” in my Intro to Screen Studies class. Film majors….

So yesterday I decided to take up the hobby of Nerf-modding, which, if you’re unfamiliar with that nerdology, is the practice of taking apart Nerf guns, tinkering with them, and putting them back together so they’re better.  Needless to say, one of my nerf guns is in pieces seemingly beyond repair, the other became frighteningly powerful, with a motor reminiscent of a chainsaw, and my bed is covered in WD-40.

Oh and this is our new chandelier....

Pete Storm is…

On my computer right now.

My first day of my sophomore year in college went pretty well, apart from falling up some stairs and hitting my face on a railing in front of a bunch of freshman English majors that is.  Always smooth.

Hopefully more content coming soon, I am more often surrounded by undesirables these days,

That makes me an awful human being, laugh at me,


If you read my somewhat melancholy and unsatisfying post yesterday, you’ll know that I feel like I’ve wasted my entire summer.  But there are two weeks left, and I’ve devised a plan to make it count, to echo the summers of old.  Every day I will do an activity reminiscent of summers past, and I will post the results here, for better or for worse.  Three parts nostalgia and one part random, this is an entertainment experiment the likes of which has never been attempted.

Okay, so I’ll probably end up running out of ideas after a couple days and that will be that, but uh, yeah. Any suggestions are welcome, in fact please send suggestions, because I only have about four ideas in my head at the moment.

And rather than bombard you with posts every day, I’ll just update this one as I feel the need, so check back if you’re interested.

Day 8: I Think 7 Days is Enough,


Only sort of a cop-out,


Day 7: The S.S. ARomDoms

I guess I should be more specific, I made an aluminum foil boat, please tell me you did that as a kid, if not go do it nao.  All it takes is a piece of aluminum foil and an imagination :D.

I spruced mine up a little with a skewer, a piece of paper, some cardboard, and an appropriately nautical themed Lego man, because I had way too much free time today.

The following is a photo essay on my time spent sailing the whole wide pool.

The sailing was smooth as the S.S. ARomDoms embarked on its epic journey to the other side of my pool.

Iceber-- the side of the pool ahoy!

These waters be shark infested...

Luckily, it was Harry, the boat salvaging shark. Why his name was Harry no one knew for sure...


I obviously had WAY too much fun.  Day 7: I feel like a kid again.

Day 6: Adventuring

Remember when you were a kid and you used explore the woods behind your house, fighting off invisible hordes of orcs and claiming new territory for the land of Androsidalia? Coming back at dusk, bloodied, dirty, and exhausted, but feeling heroic nonetheless?  That was where I spent most of my time as a kid, climbing trees and fashioning stick swords or magic staffs.

I set off to recreate those fond memories this afternoon, (because it was only, yeah ONLY, 101 today! ) hiking boots on and expectations high.

It was hot. Still really hot.

I flipped out when I saw a copperhead.

I went back inside and took a shower, like 15 minutes after I went out.


Adventuring is a fall activity. Day 6: Don’t judge me.

Day 5: Ice Cream Cone

Adults eat ice cream in bowls, because there’s no dignified way to eat an ice cream cone.  It gets all over your face, it drips everywhere, and you have to awkwardly yet sensuously lick it with your tongue.  Weird. But, ice cream cones were awesome when I was a kid, so I got a big cone of birthday cake ice cream with gummy bears. Yum.


110 degrees + ice cream cone + car = bad idea.  Day 5: Sticky…..

This should have been a sign...

Day 4: Dreamcast–I mean N64

I’ve got to start off by saying that the Sega Dreamcast was FAR superior to the Nintendo 64 and the Sony Playstation.  Better graphics, better controller, better everything.  Except no one bought it.  My family was one of the 5 Dreamcast-owning families in the country, so my reminiscing about the good old days of the Dreamcast wont strike a nostalgic chord in the hearts of my readers, unless you happen to either A.) be in my family, or B.), be one of the smartest video game shoppers in the country.

Anyway, I managed to find an N64, with it’s 3-handled abomination of a controller and early 90’s graphics quality, and play it.  To be specific, I played Cruisin’ Exotica and Pokemon Stadium, both classics of the N64’s repertoire.

The verdict? I think my standards in video game quality have risen considerably since the glory days of the N64, and my fabled third hand never grew, so I couldn’t properly use the stupid 3-pronged controller.  Also, Pokemon Stadium  was way more fun when you could load your own super powerful, rare-candied (Missingno anyone?), killing machines called Pokemon into it and pwn your noobish little neighbors.


I’m sure all you video game hipsters out there will hate me for this, but contrary to what you pretend to believe, video games have actually gotten better since they came out.  They were great for the technology of the time, but appreciate that technology has advanced. Some things get better with age, like wine and wizards; some things are timeless, like Saving Private Ryan and Happy Meals; but some things are better in your memory than in the present, like broken arms, jean shorts, and N64’s.  They make a fond memory, but reliving them isn’t quite as fun.

Day 4: Let’s be honest here, I’m just bitter that Dreamcast lost out to the N64.

I mean come on, it had a little gameboy thing inside of it that you could take with you anywhere, 10 years before the Pokewalker.

Day 3: Watch an Old Favorite Movie

Turns out all of the movies I used to watch as a kid are on VHS, and I’m pretty sure VCR’s all died (yes, died) in the early 2000’s, because I could not find one that worked to save my life.  I did however, find a copy of Jurassic Park II: The Lost World on VHS, still shrink-wrapped, because I was too scared to watch it as a kid.  But alas, I resigned to watch old trailers on YouTube, and Toy Story 3 on Blu Ray.   I figure it’s close enough, because Toy Story was my favorite movie when it came out, Andy (coincidence much?) graduated High School the same year I did, and he shares that same sense of sappy sentimentality that I do.   I don’t know if it’s just because of all the eerie similarities between Andy and I, or just because I grew up with Woody, Buzz and the gang, but that movie makes me cry every time.  So Grood.


Day Three: *sigh*

Also, I wear that shirt all the time, I have like three of them. This is me looking cool in Kansas City just two weeks ago. Anyone who creeps my Facebook pictures will find several pics of me over the years in that same shirt, I call it my protagonist shirt.

Day 2: Get Ripped

Okay so this is less nostalgic and more “I attempted this earlier this summer”-ish, but my motivation for fitness dwindles with each passing Dorito.  Also, I’m not sure this is possible in two weeks, but uh, grrrrrr, let’s do this!!

Attempted: 50 pushups

Completed: 48.5 pushups

Attempted: 30 laps in the pool

Completed: 23 and a handstand.

Attempted: Tons of weights and sweaty, workout-type stuff

Completed: A moderate amount of weights and sweaty, workout-type stuff


Pain, but I think I can feel a six-pack comin’ on. Day two: success?

Day 1: Legos

Okay so I’ll admit, this one isn’t as nostalgic as it maybe should be; it hasn’t been that long since I’ve played with Legos… Is it my fault that part of me is still 14 on the inside? Coolest toys ever.  I hate that they put age limits on them, I mean the lower limit I can understand, for choking hazards and stuff, but when you put that upper age limit at like 14-16 you alienate a good part of your customer base.  The man-child demographic who never really grew out of Legos is a significant faction, Lego! I had to buy a child’s birthday card with my Lego purchase, so I could convince the cashier that it was a gift for my little cousin or something.  Should there be so much shame?? I cannot be the only one who feels this way… Big kids of the world unite!  Let us cast off the shackles of shame and cashier judgement and buy our Legos with heads held high.

No? So maybe I’m the only one. But still.

Anyway, I bought some Legos, built them, destroyed them, and built them again.


Twas awesome, just like it was ages and ages and ages ago when I did it last.. You can see my Lego masterpiece below.  Day one: success.

Pictured: The bottom of the Ocean.

Two weeks left of summer.

Normally I would say that summer has gone by so fast it’s just been a blur, various trips and parties to pass the time. but this summer has been more of a blank space than a blur. Equally fast, if not more so, but filled with nothing.  I’m not even sure how it happened, I have accomplished and done so astoundingly little.  It’s not the satisfying kind of “little” either.  Sometimes doing nothing can be relaxing, but mine is the stressful kind of “little.”  Stressing about doing nothing whilst trying and failing to come up with something to do.  All I’ve done is work.  I feel like I should go buy some Pokemon cards or build a tree house or something to compensate in my last two weeks.

Last summer I was happy, but scared shitless at the impending school year and the consequent ending of my childhood.  Last school year came and went, the cliff I seemed to be careening towards turned out to be more of a time warp, and there I was again, gas pedal stuck to the floor on my summer, eyes glued to the rearview mirror.  As time goes on, the image in that mirror fades, and finally, now that summer is almost gone, I am able to look ahead. What used to seem like a cliff at the end of my summer however, that terrifying feeling of unknown, has been replaced with a looming brick wall.  I know what to expect now, I just hope I can find a door before I dash myself against the side of that big brick building called potential.  If I can find that door, break through that barrier, then has the potential to be a damn good year.

Well huh, that wasn’t exactly the blog post I intended, I uh, apologize for that.

I guess that’s all I have for today, so now for some unsolicited opinion, in the form of some charts and graphs.


Read these graphs, or never talk to me ever.

How did this get in here?

Another one? My bad.

I heart charts. But seriously, this one makes me sick.

“It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God”

-Matthew 19:24

I just quoted the Bible,


I had endeavored to post more than once a week this summer, but the utter lack of activity in my life has made that incredibly difficult.  There’s not much to write about a weekend filled with boredom, self-pity, and copious amounts of aimless internet browsing, which has been every weekend of the summer so far.

But, do not despair my intrepid reader, for this summer is to the movie of my life not the depression montage, that already happened, but instead the determination montage, where I work out in dimly lit rooms and leave myself inspirational notes on the mirror.  In this montage I lean dramatically over the sink, splash water on my face, and stare steely-eyed and determined at my unshaven reflection, followed by an unknown, but undoubtedly epic number of incredibly sweaty situps.  We’ll just edit out the hours and hours spent in dark rooms staring at TV and computer screens, a lifeless pallor about my person, and just the barest hint of sentience in the vacant expression worn constantly upon my face.  Oh yeah, after a determination montage like this I am going to kick some ass when school starts next month.


I know making fun of old ladies makes me a terrible person, but when they have sideburns and a moustache, it’s incredibly hard not to chuckle in mild fascination.  Though, I have to

admire them for not giving a flip about the way they look.

Do you ever sit there and debate how much punctuation you should put at the end of a sentence?!?

Nobody likes being super busy at work, but it’s almost better than the endless minesweeper and rubber band-ballery of a slow day.

And now for some unsolicited philosophical advice:

Don’t ever get so caught up in where you’re going that you forget where you’re from, because for better or for worse, it will always be a part of you.  No matter how much you want to get away from it, as soon as you forget where you’re from, you become just another face in the crowd, somewhere in the middle of a story with no beginning.  I’m not saying your past should define you, but a glance in the rearview mirror every once in a while is a good way to avoid an accident.  Besides, if you don’t remember where you started, how can you know how far you’ve come?

Our goals in life are mostly the same,  it’s our beginnings that make us unique.

Reflectively yours,


So last night I got to see my musical hero Ben Folds in concert for the first time at the bouncy Cain’s Ballroom in Tulsa, and I have to say, holy balls. It was amazing. He has so much energy, from when he slammed out Levi Johnston’s Blues to when he threw the piano bench at the piano at the end of the concert, he was nonstop. It was the most fun I’ve had in a long time, and definitely worth the wait from when the concert was originally scheduled for February.  In case you weren’t aware, it was postponed for the biggest snowstorm in the history of snow that just happened to fall on the exact day Ben was scheduled to play in Tulsa.  Moshing to Effington on the bouncy floor of Cain’s with like 500 other sweaty Folds-ophiles like me who knew every word pretty much made my life.

Anyway, I’m done gushing, but that was definitely the highlight of my summer, and I’m buying my ticket to see him in OKC in November tonight.

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen an edger before, but they’re these power tools that are designed to cut the grass next to sidewalks.  They feature a circular metal blade, a small lawn-mower-type engine, and the ability to drive me absolutely insane.  Something about the sound of that weed-eater engine combined with the high pitched shriek of metal scraping concrete has a direct line to my insanity bone. It drives me crazy, and for some inexplicable reason, Oklahoma State University seems to think that every single square inch where grass grows next to concrete must be edged AT LEAST three times a week.

I don’t get it.  It’s like they follow me around and make sure any sidewalk I walk on is free of grass, to make sure I don’t trip on the millimeter of grass that’s touching the sidewalk.  Because it ALWAYS happens to the sidewalk right outside my window, no matter what building I’m in, or what time of day it is.  It’s never consistent either, the sound constantly fades in and out, like some kind of crazy aural Chinese Water Torture.

zzzzzZZZZZZZZZrrrrrrt…….ZZZZzzZZzzzzzzzzzrttt….zzrt……..ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzZzZZZZZZZZZZZZZrrrrt…..zzzzzZZZrrt…. (That’s what it sounds like, except more metallic and horrible)

I didn’t need an alarm clock in the dorms, because the friendly neighborhood edgerman was always outside my window at 8 in the morning protecting my ankles from the evils of immaculately manicured grass.  And I lived on the 4th floor.

They edge way more than they mow, which makes no sense to me.  Why does that happen?  Edge when you mow! Why does unmown grass need edging? It’s like icing an unbaked cake.

Maybe I just don’t understand the importance of edging, but JESUS, I promise I’ll be okay if my sidewalks are unedged for like three days.

I just wrote half a page about edgers. Wow, why are you still reading this?

Don’t get mad, get RIPPED! Don’t just to sit-ups, do RAGE SIT-UPS!!! When you work out angry, you feel the burn in your abs AND your heart!

I don’t know if you know anyone like this, but I know a guy, an adult mind you, that signs the bottom of every e-mail he sends with a quote from the movie Gladiator.  A grown man.  And for the name underneath the quote, where the author of the quote usually is, all it says is “-Gladiator,” so everyone knows it’s from the movie.  At least he could have put the script writer’s name, to preserve a bit of his dignity, but no, Gladiator it is.  HE’S COOL.

Man, with both the NFL and NBA possibly in lockout next season, I have no idea what pro sport I’m going to watch.  One thing’s for sure though, I would watch professional knitting before I watched professional baseball.

My desk at work is right next to the two copiers, so any time they need to be repaired (which is all the time), the copier guy makes small talk with me.  For whatever reason he was in an especially talkative mood today, because he talked to me for half an hour about the stuff he’s learned over the years while repairing copiers on military bases… Also about the UFO he saw last Halloween, but that’s a different story.  Actually it’s just a different part of the same story, because he never stopped talking.

Like he said, even high security military facilities have copiers and printers that need repairing.  Who’d have thought a copier repairman would so change my view of the world.

Rantily yours,


P.S. Oh and this:

Obscure internet humor + Harry Potter = I'm writing a blog post at 8:30 on a Friday night.

That's just cruel.

Man, today was the Fourth of July, and all I wanted to do was grill something, swim, and explode stuff in my front lawn just like our founding fathers did when they were declaring independence from King George III.  But alas, we haven’t had rain in weeks here, so a burn ban was put in affect for our entire county, making the detonation of fireworks illegal.  Talk about a wet blanket on my patriotism.


It’s been hot here lately.  So hot you can taste it when you get in your car, kind of metallic on your tongue.  So hot that you wish you had bathed in deodorant because you sweat from places you’ve never sweat from before.  So hot the milk you drank for breakfast curdles in your stomach as you walk from your car into the store.  I must be an Okie, because I actually kind of like it.

It's all part of their plan...

Call me insecure, but I prefer pencils to pens any day.

Thank God it says “do not eat” on that silica gel packet, it just looks so tasty in there amongst that beef jerky.

Kraft Macaroni and Cheese is delicious.  I crave that blue-boxed goodness in the summer more than anything else.  It has a dark side however…

Have you ever had it left over?? The second you put it in the fridge it turns from a delicious, cheesy pasta entree, to a pale yellow, cardboard tasting  sludge.  I don’t understand how something so amazing can turn into something so horrible with the mere application if cold.  The moral of the story is: eat the whole box, you pansy.

I think it’s my Viking heritage, but I do not tan well.  I’m kind of like a reptile; if I get in the sun for an extended period of time I burn, then my skin peels off, and I am just as white as I was before.

Better than a pickup line.

I was walking along the sidewalk this morning, when out of the bushes and onto the sidewalk in front of me hops an adorable bunny.  I proceeded slowly towards him as he eyed me warily.  And still I proceeded. And still he remained.  When I was about two feet away from him I couldn’t decide what to do, I wasn’t sure if it was a really friendly rabbit, or if it was a really rabid rabbit, waiting cutely to infect me with Rabies.  I just sort of sidestepped him uneasily and went on my way.  Weird.

I will never understand why people take pictures of fireworks.  We’ve all seen pictures of fireworks before, and they always turn out horrible.  And you end up watching the whole fireworks show through a tiny screen instead of right in front of your face.  Besides, who is just like “Sweet! I would love to look at all 150 of your blurryass pictures of colored blobs in the sky!”

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done it too, I did it this year even, it just makes no sense.

Happy 4th,


This is my first attempt at video blogging, so yeah, easy on the hate.

Constructive criticism? Hate-filled negative comments? Any feedback is appreciated.

Yes it was slightly out of focus a couple times, and yes it was because I was too lazy to do another take after I realized it was out of focus. This is probably my first and only video blog, unless somebody really liked it or thinks it has potential.  I dunno about that.

Making it was way harder than I thought, talking is hard.



The Doldrums of Summer

I think my thus far soul-crushingly boring summer has effectively squeezed out what little blogging wit I had left, which is why it’s been taking me so much longer to publish new posts.  I apologize for the delays if you were at all concerned (I bet you were :D That’s so kind of you!).

Bluh, I need a muse.

I hate fairs.  The fair is where all the ugly, sticky people take their cousins to smell bad and litter. There are two things to do at the fair: One is to wade through crowds of sweaty, overall-wearing hill people and pubescent teenagers to strap yourself into spinning death traps assembled a few hours earlier by high school dropouts and ex-cons, and the other is to wade through crowds of sweaty, overall-wearing hill people and pubescent teens to buy face-greasifying deep-fried crap. Fun.

You know those dreams you have when you’re half asleep, where it feels like there is a spider or something crawling on you and you freak out and jump out of your bed?  Well last night I successfully convinced myself it was just a dream, only to find that there was actually a spider crawling on me.

Crossing my fingers for spidey powers tomorrow morning.

Speaking of which, I am entirely sick of comic book movies, don’t get me wrong, I love a good super hero movie (Iron Man, Spiderman 1 & 2, Dark Knight), but I feel like there aren’t enough people out there who actually read comic books to warrant such excessive spandex on the big screen.  The movie industry needs to back off on the super hero stuff, it makes me feel decidedly un-super.

That reminds me, I’m in the process of writing a review of Super 8.  Although you’ve probably seen it by now if you were at all interested, which defeats the porpoise (lol) of a review.  So I may or may not actually finish it.

You know what I don’t understand? Caffeine free Diet Coke.  What’s the point of drinking it if it has no caffeine or sugar? Isn’t that what soda was invented for? Actually, it originally had cocaine in it, and you’re complaining about the caffeine and sugar?

Don’t you hate it when you’re doing the puzzles on the back of a cereal box and you accidentally read the answers? Why don’t they put them on the inside of the box or something, totally ruins the fun.

Then again, so does the fact that I’m not a small child.

Things not to do in the President’s office #17: Store your snackies right next to the panic button at the front desk…

So I’m currently working on my ability to un-see things, not much success so far.  The moral of the story is that some things should not appear on my news feed.

Has it been long enough to make jokes about Japan?

You know that feeling when it feels like you’ve forgotten something, but you can’t remember what? I live in a constant state of that feeling, and I’ve usually forgotten something.

No one ever responds to these requests, but if anyone has any suggestions for blog posts or things they’d like to see on here, PLEASE don’t hesitate to let me know, via facebook message, comment, or e-mail.



So my posts have been somewhat few and far between lately, and for that I apologize, because I know how it’s the highlight of your time on the internet and all.  Anyway, your Facebook profile Picture is (sadly) how most of your network of acquaintances and strangers sees you, so it’s important to have a decent one, especially if you spend as much time on there as I do.  The following post should serve as a guide as you select a profile picture to represent yourself online.

Also, you may have noticed that this is my third Facebook-themed post, and I will admit that I have a bit of a preoccupation with the blue and white menace, but so do you.  So shuddup.

**DISCLAIMER** Realize before you freak out on me , that I was able to write this because I’ve been guilty of most of these Facebook faux pas in the past.  It’s not hypocrisy if I acknowledge my past guilt.  Calm.

~In no particular order~

The Pro Pic Troll

You know what I’m talking about, the one negative commenter on your profile picture. It always happens.  It’s usually the guy who has had the same profile picture for years because it’s the only good picture of him ever taken, and he doesn’t have the self-confidence to use another one.  I understand that there is some degree of fruitiness in taking a picture of oneself sure, but I dabble in photography and looking good, so it’s just the natural progression of hobby and vanity.  Also, you know you’ve done it too, so don’t be a douche you unnattractive person you.

Posting a Slightly Different, Self-Shot Profile Picture Every Couple of Days

I realize that this somewhat contradicts the above statement, but there is a distinction. Don’t get me wrong, I am guilty of the occasional Myspacean, self-shot profile picture (although I try to give mine some artistic merit at least), but when several blurryass pictures of you taken from the same weird angle fill my news feed every day, it gets old.  I understand the temptation, I am one of the most self-absorbed humans on the planet, but trust me, this goes beyond self-absorption and into the realm of self-obsession.   You don’t need a new profile picture every two days friend, I’m pretty sure you look the same as you did two days ago.

Your Profile Picture Isn’t You

Unless it’s for a cartoon character or celebrity pro pic week, everyone assumes this happens because you’re ugly.  It’s also weird and creepy (yes,  both weird AND creepy), I feel like anyone could be behind that anime character or demotivational poster.  It’s the hockey mask of the e-predator world.  Have some self confidence, if they’ve read my blog, no one will make fun of your profile picture if it’s actually you, so you have nothing to worry about.  Beisdes, you’ll be more attractive to the opposite sex (or whoever you’re trying to attract) if you have the confidence to appear as you really are, and anyone who doesn’t think so isn’t worth your time.  Don’t be a creeper.

Over-Edited, Pseudo-Artistic Pictures

They’re usually weird colors, really blurry, and with words and crap on them.  I don’t know what online photo editor you used, but unless you’re sepia colored, blurry, and bracketed with words and hearts in real life, it’s not okay.  A profile picture should be of you, not of some weird cartoon version of you.

Cell-Phone-in-the-Bathroom Mirror Pictures

This one isn’t as severe as some of the others, but incredibly tacky nonetheless.  Especially when I scroll through your album of profile pictures, and they’re all of you standing in front of the bathroom mirror, holding your head at the same angle, with the same cocky look on your face, and in varying states of shirtlessness.

A Photo of You Kissing Your Boyfriend

Seriously? I’m happy you’ve been kissed at least once as proved by your picture, but leave it off your profile.  Especially if it’s super close up and gross.

Nearly Naked You

As rockin’ as your bod may be, future employers and grandmas are all over Facebook, so don’t look like a prostitute, because it could come back to haunt you.  That goes for guys too, taking a picture of your shirtless self with your hand down your pants in the bathroom? Not okay.  Even if you don’t care about employers or innocent grandmas and children on Facebook, have some class people!

Just to be clear, I don’t think there is anything wrong with pictures of you at the lake in your swimwear, it’s pictures of you in the bathroom with sex in your eyes that don’t need to grace the top left corner of your profile.

The Where’s Waldo Picture

When your profile picture has a ton of people in it.  This one is akin to the profile picture that isn’t even you, because if I don’t know you how am I supposed to tell which one you are? I’m just going to assume that you’re the guy in the background holding the knife.

No Offense,


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