Wanna know how I know you're old?
Because it's four days after your little college reunion with your friends and you're still not functioning normally yet.
Back in the day we used to go hard four nights a week sometimes.
We used to say Monday is the new Friday.
Tuesday is the new Saturday.
You know what I say now? How about we just stay in tonight, let's go out tomorrow...
lol, kate.
Because you're closer to 30 than 25.
And you bring this fact up over wine and wrinkles.
I've heard I'm at the age when some girls start getting botox!
You wanna know what covers up wrinkles? Bronzer. When in doubt, just add more bronzer.
It will solve anything.
Because you look at the teenagers on Instagram and think,
"that's disgusting, where are their parents?"
I know I need to get over this Insta-teen phenom, but I can't.
I have a fear they're ruining the world.
Teenagers are arrogant enough without posting photos of themselves that get over 40,000 likes.
That's more likes than the population of the town I grew up in.
Back in my day our Instagrams were called "Senior Photos."
And they took at least three months to develop....
Who doesn't like to just lay on a fallen tree?
Because you still don't know what Snapchat is.
And you really don't care.
Why would I want the photo I just sent to disappear five seconds later?
Oh.....okay I get it now.
I bet those nasty little Insta-teens love this one.
Because you know what Salesforce is.
And you check your Linkedin everyday and find yourself thinking,
maybe I should get a more professional business photo taken...
Hire me! I'm eight and love sunflowers!
I hate Linkedin, it doesn't make me feel linked into anything but who has better jobs than me.
The only option I kinda like is who just viewed my profile,
and even that bores me now because it's always just weirdo guys from staffing agencies in California.
Because you get up extra early to write a blog post...
And as you sit with your coffee in hand, with rain pouring down outside,
you think, man this is a great morning.
I feel like this post was a real force, sorry I must be getting old.
Because it's four days after your little college reunion with your friends and you're still not functioning normally yet.
Back in the day we used to go hard four nights a week sometimes.
We used to say Monday is the new Friday.
Tuesday is the new Saturday.
You know what I say now? How about we just stay in tonight, let's go out tomorrow...
Because you're closer to 30 than 25.
And you bring this fact up over wine and wrinkles.
I've heard I'm at the age when some girls start getting botox!
You wanna know what covers up wrinkles? Bronzer. When in doubt, just add more bronzer.
It will solve anything.
Because you look at the teenagers on Instagram and think,
"that's disgusting, where are their parents?"
I know I need to get over this Insta-teen phenom, but I can't.
I have a fear they're ruining the world.
Teenagers are arrogant enough without posting photos of themselves that get over 40,000 likes.
That's more likes than the population of the town I grew up in.
Back in my day our Instagrams were called "Senior Photos."
And they took at least three months to develop....
Because you still don't know what Snapchat is.
And you really don't care.
Why would I want the photo I just sent to disappear five seconds later?
Oh.....okay I get it now.
I bet those nasty little Insta-teens love this one.
Because you know what Salesforce is.
And you check your Linkedin everyday and find yourself thinking,
maybe I should get a more professional business photo taken...
Hire me! I'm eight and love sunflowers!
I hate Linkedin, it doesn't make me feel linked into anything but who has better jobs than me.
The only option I kinda like is who just viewed my profile,
and even that bores me now because it's always just weirdo guys from staffing agencies in California.
Because you get up extra early to write a blog post...
And as you sit with your coffee in hand, with rain pouring down outside,
you think, man this is a great morning.
I feel like this post was a real force, sorry I must be getting old.
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