Fuck you, MySpace
Dear MySpace account holders and any concerned citizens,
Yes, this is an entry going out to all those special, and I mean that in the most demeaning way possible, people out there on myspace. Just when you never thought you would be priveledged enough, you get a highlighted mention. I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for countless shots of you and your drunken buddies chugging any number of varieties of cheap beer and/or liquor. The shots of you and your half naked friends of whom you have drawn on in sharpie in your collective drunken stupor really are strong indicators of your potential to, A) End up as a boozing homeless person, or B)Hold an elected office.
Your blogs make me cry, though they are usually tears of anguish, the emotion is there nonetheless. Your taste in music makes me cringe. I do not believe that anywhere else on the internet is there such a consortium of band names that revolve around bad grammer and terrible metaphors.
It used to be that only the goth kids had angst. However, now a strange new, yet somehow less impressive nor leather version of it is emerging all around me. Mostly it is just skinny kids, and/or chubby girls that still insist on shrink-wrapping their clothes to themselves like the rest, listening to "emotional" music and crying, writing in their blogs about how Conor Oberst saved his or her life, and is now a reason to continue living. Because yes, a musical artist of whom you have never spoken, most likely have never been in the same building as, has saved your life on multiple occasions, because you were too angst ridden to go on in your upper middle class plight.
Oh, "BUT NOOOO!" you say, "We're INDIE". To you I say this: Why must you label yourself so steadfastedly to a specific genre or scene. You all know that you were emo kids six months ago before "indie" started to gain popularity. Mainly, don't let the current trend depict what you should wear and listen to, especially since the current fad is so incredibly that. A fad. This is parachute pants and culottes all over again, mark my words.
And get some pants that fit.
That is all,
Sincerely,
Stephanie J. Morin
Yes, this is an entry going out to all those special, and I mean that in the most demeaning way possible, people out there on myspace. Just when you never thought you would be priveledged enough, you get a highlighted mention. I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for countless shots of you and your drunken buddies chugging any number of varieties of cheap beer and/or liquor. The shots of you and your half naked friends of whom you have drawn on in sharpie in your collective drunken stupor really are strong indicators of your potential to, A) End up as a boozing homeless person, or B)Hold an elected office.
Your blogs make me cry, though they are usually tears of anguish, the emotion is there nonetheless. Your taste in music makes me cringe. I do not believe that anywhere else on the internet is there such a consortium of band names that revolve around bad grammer and terrible metaphors.
It used to be that only the goth kids had angst. However, now a strange new, yet somehow less impressive nor leather version of it is emerging all around me. Mostly it is just skinny kids, and/or chubby girls that still insist on shrink-wrapping their clothes to themselves like the rest, listening to "emotional" music and crying, writing in their blogs about how Conor Oberst saved his or her life, and is now a reason to continue living. Because yes, a musical artist of whom you have never spoken, most likely have never been in the same building as, has saved your life on multiple occasions, because you were too angst ridden to go on in your upper middle class plight.
Oh, "BUT NOOOO!" you say, "We're INDIE". To you I say this: Why must you label yourself so steadfastedly to a specific genre or scene. You all know that you were emo kids six months ago before "indie" started to gain popularity. Mainly, don't let the current trend depict what you should wear and listen to, especially since the current fad is so incredibly that. A fad. This is parachute pants and culottes all over again, mark my words.
And get some pants that fit.
That is all,
Sincerely,
Stephanie J. Morin