Sometimes, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for people who have not blogged in more than two years to take to their keyboards. And I have decided that I can no longer sit silently by as more and more of my friends, Romans, and countrymen fall prey to shudder-inducing, unoriginal expressions as they compose their vapid social media posts. It is my ethical responsibility to return to the Letter T and comment on this scourge.
Let me first say that you’d have a lot of trouble finding a bigger, more addicted social media junkie than me. I spend a truly alarming amount of time going down dark Facebook holes. You may not know me, but I sure know you. And your best friend from high school. And your ex-girlfriend. And her new boyfriend. Who, weirdly, is friends with my dentist’s daughter’s fiance. So no, I’m not pointing fingers at anyone merely for their use of these sites. It’s a sad reality. But for the love of GOD people, if you’re going to be a chronic poster there, post good shit. I want to be cool and hip and popular as much as the next guy, but for the good of the nation and society as a whole I implore you: stop propagating moronic hashtags and asshole expressions like these!!!
#squad: What kind of #squad are we talking about here? Death? Firing? Cheerleading? Rescue? If you must use this one, have the decency to qualify it. Otherwise I’ll have to assume you mean “Idiot Squad.”
Artsy photo of airplane wing to inform the world of your travels: Are you the unwitting protagonist in a reenactment of the famous William Shatner Twilight Zone episode “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet?” Is there a gremlin on that wing you just hashtag-no-filtered? If not, a simple “I just sat down on a big old jet airliner” will suffice.
An open letter to…: This implies there is such a thing as a closed letter. Please compose one of those instead.
#fordays: Lip gloss for days. Bikinis for days. Rosé for days. Or, in English, “I seem to have acquired a great number of lip glosses;” “Note that I am packing several bikinis for my beach vacation;” “I very much enjoy a nice glass of Rosé.”
My boo/My bae: I would comment, but my body is too contorted from cringing. I guess I can’t even, which brings me to my next point.
Can’t even: Can’t even WHAT?! Can’t even COMPLETE A DAMN SENTENCE?!
On fleek: What exactly does this mean? What’s a fleek? Do I want to be fleek? It is so weird to me, in fact, that I will allow you to use it in my company if you do so ironically.
#nomnom: Only if you are furry, blue, googly-eyed, unable to properly use pronouns and surviving on a diet of cookies is it at all acceptable to use this hashtag.
This guy/This girl: Again, this guy/this girl WHAT? Do you not know the name of the person you’re so excited to pose with?
Birthday love letters to toddlers: Your kid is two and will never see this post. He or she can’t read, write, log on to Facebook, crap in a toilet, or POSSIBLY exhibit any of the traits you’re claiming he or she has.
What happens next will shock you: I doubt it. The only thing that would shock me is if what happens next actually shocks me. Thank you, Ron, for pointing out the absurdity here.
#blessed: When I see this in my feed, I feel #cursed. And also #nauseous.
Posts about your dog: Just kidding. These are 1000% acceptable and encouraged. Unless of course your dog is part of a #squad; #blessed; has #Snausagesfordays; or is sensitive, thoughtful, smart, and intuitive at the age of eight weeks.