the worst.

When I do the whole dinner-at-computer-while-perusing-Reader thing (every? weeknight), at first I’m like, Yeah okay, that’s cute. Oh look at that, cute booties. Etc.

Within maybe 15 minutes in, I just can’t. I JUST CAN’T. Some bloggers are just the worst. Me included. But I’m really talking about famous bloggers, esp. fashion bloggers.

Just the worst. This might send me into bitter pill territory, but these bloggers must be absolutely insufferable in real life. They get their boyfriends to take pictures of their outfits, daily. DAILY. I would be mortified to each and every day force my whoever to stop what he’s doing so he could go take 10 photos of me smugly wearing wedges and vintage smelly high-waisted skirts and garish bright lipstick in the snow, just so I could continue to jerk my ego off via this self-worshipping blog I started. That guy probably HATES that fucking blog.

I’m sad that this was once a bandwagon I fully got on. It might be the NSync of internet trends. 10 years from now I suspect we’ll all be like, “ha yeah. Remember when that was a thing?”

Silly bitches.

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