First things first, thanks to everyone who read and shared my iphone tips and tricks post. I hear it's currently afire on pinterest and I have only you to blame. THANKS, YOU. I hope many people find it helpful, as it was intended to be helpful and not just needlessly long, though it was also needlessly long like the march of 10,000 tiny ants on their way to water far from their home, the barren Sahara-crossing of posts, eh? I've been pulling it together as a side project for a month or two and as soon as I hit publish it felt like a heavy load had been lifted from my shoulders. Asdfghjk.
Before I posted it I sent a text to Jon that said, "Do you even think this is helpful?" and he replied, "Eh, I guess." Consequently, I've had more blog visitors in the last three days than I normally have in three months. HEY GUYS. I mean, I'm glad my hard work is proving to be useful but every time I inadvertently catch sight of my statcounter I develop a wicked eye twitch and go into spasms. Strangers make me nervous.
I never imaged that my grand moment of fame would come from showing people how to read the instructions on an iphone app I found two years ago by searching the app store for "camera." Up next I will teach you to put your shoes on the correct feet, paint a straight line, and do a cartwheel.*
(Just kidding, I totally don't know how to do a cartwheel. Would you like to teach me? Maybe there's a pin for that.**)
As a side effect of how many lives I'm transforming for the better right this minute*** I've also started receiving such lovely electronic correspondence as, "Really? You have to use foul language to describe photography? I'll find help elsewhere. -Not Impressed" (LOLOLOL you must be new here, signed -the woman who named her blog a euphemism for cunts) and, "I don't believe you. I think you're a liar," followed by five messages in a single hour that said only, "IPHONES SUKKKK!!!1!!!!"
Those last few might have just been regular emails from my brother-in-law, I'm not really sure****.
Prior to this week I've only had one nasty comment that I can recall with any kind of clarity. It was on a post about our dog being diagnosed with an untreatable form of cancer and it went something like this: "I can't believe you dislike the Duggars but you care about your dog having cancer. I hope it dies. I won't ever come back!!" After I was able to resume regular breathing from my uncontrollable laughter, my face was like this: o_O (sideye) For the record, I have never to my knowledge publicly mentioned having any particular feelings about the Duggar family, but if you wanted to know my feelings just for your own gratification they look like this: o_O (sideye).
Conveniently for that person my dog did die of cancer not long after. I didn't even cry when they injected my beloved pet with poisonous chemicals because I just kept thinking, "What would Michelle Duggar do? NOT CRY, PROBABLY," and then I ate a noodle bowl. END SCENE. Congratulations.
But of course in reality I did cry, because it's rumored that my body contains a human heart. It's in there somewhere behind the pot pies next to the ice tray, and when I wear my hoodie I put my hood up and pretend I'm a ninja. Would Michelle Duggar do that? NO WAY.
The devil's not in these hoodies, he's in your hearts.
January 21, 2013
let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
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