It has been eight years since I started this blog, as part of a school project. Here I am still, shouting into the wind — and this is my 100th post. Where do I find the time?
Not having friends does have its benefits.
I know I’m not exactly prolific. It’s not that I don’t have things to write about … I do. But getting them out of my head is excruciating, and there’s risk involved. What if I accidentally let out something too revealing? Like the fact that “Truly Madly Deeply” by Savage Garden is on my most recently created Spotify playlist?
Fuck.
Anyway, I’ve got plenty of good shit to write about. Like, why does every straight girl get a gay bestie but every straight guy doesn’t get a gay girl bestie? I don’t get it. I want my lesbian best friend. I want my lesbro.
Do straight up white people really think they are being more cultured when they choose chop sticks over forks? How many times do you need to drop a dumpling before it stops making you look “more cultured,” and starts making you look … like an absolute idiot?
Oranges are the worst fruit by far. No one likes them because the skin is too difficult to peel off. Whenever someone offers me an unpeeled orange, I want to punch them in the face. I suspect the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil was not an apple but in fact, an orange.
On that note, if there is a God, why didn’t he put more marshmallows in Lucky Charms?
Huh? Huh? Why God why?
Forget about all the suffering in the world — that, I can understand. It’s the ratio of marshmallows to toasted oats in Lucky Charms that has me puzzled.
Did God deliberately put less marshmallows in Lucky Charms to test our faith? Surely if there was a God, he would have put less pretzel pieces and more rye pieces in chex mix. I love the little rye pieces …
Like I said, I’ve got tons of Good Shit to write about. I like to think of my opinions as savory little gourmet chocolates which I indiscriminately hand out to people: policemen, family, neighbors, passerbys. They’re the best opinions out there, in my opinion. Here’s to 100 more of them.