Snapchat used to be awesome. It was like the Wild West. There were no stories, you could see who was Snapping one another the most (a feature that needs to come back so we can all see who’s boning who again), there were no ads being forced down your throat from Cosmo and Comedy Central, and it wasn’t popular enough for you to feel overexposed to it.
But now there’s perpetually a purple “+” in the bottom right corner signifying a fuckton of people are posting stories, you can’t see which of your friends is having an affair by way of the “best friends” feature, and there are a myriad of third-party apps that allow people to screenshot the hell out of everything you send which means you can’t draw fake pants on yourself when peeing in front of a mirror anymore. We’re abusing Snapchat, and I’m just as guilty as everyone else.
For every person you have a 49-day streak with, there are seemingly a million people that you regret adding because they’re annoying as all hell.
None of us have time for 10 second Snapchats anymore, guy. Assuming anyone wants to see anything more than 10 seconds of your Snapchat is gluttonous and selfish beyond words. When someone posts a story, I’m fervently tapping my finger to get in and out of it in two seconds or less. If I’m not immediately taken by a video, see you later. For all I know, the video could start with a boring leaf fluttering on the ground and end with Nina Agdal and Candice Swanepoel going after each other on a waterbed, but I’ll never know because I max out after 6 seconds, tops. And if I click your name and it spirals into a 100+ second story, I’m immediately swiping down and exiting out. Nobody got time for that.
The Guy Fieri Of Food Photography
“Hey, I should take a photo of this chicken parmesan I just made. It’s slightly dark in here so I should use a flash that’s going to make the food look super wet and slimy, and I’m going to take it super close up after I’ve had a few bites because this isn’t looking unappealing enough yet.” — This Person
I don’t understand who these people are, but somehow, I follow like five people who always seem to be on a European vacation. I mean, I think they have jobs, but if that’s the case, they do not get their PTO tracked. They either come from money, have a sugar daddy, or just straight up ball out on their own accord which I can’t fathom. No matter how you slice it, I hate-watch every one of their stories out of pure jealousy.
The Start-Up Humblebragger
Cool, you drink a beer every day at your job while hashtagging #startuplyfe and using your company’s geo-filter. Well, I’ve got news for you: it’s 2015, and that’s not special anymore. If you’re not drinking on the job, you’re either a teacher or a total square. I don’t care if you have flip-flops on or are at a work retreat where people are doing keg stands. Bragging about how much you drink hasn’t been cool since your freshman year in college when you “like, totally finished that fifth on your own.”
“Does this person have a stylus or are they drawing with their pinky finger on an iPad?” you wonder to yourself while viewing a story where their drawing of a horse looks more realistic than the actual horse in the photo. Somehow, they take selfies and draw themselves into intricate Disney characters and recreate Starry Night on their 4-inch screen. You can’t help but respect it, but you also can’t help but hate them for trying too hard.
This person never shares a story and never hits you with a direct photo. But they always appear in the people that view your story, and frankly, it’s a bit creepy. They probably follow every Snapchat “model” out there and will scramble to not look like a complete pervert once Snapchat allows everyone to see who everyone else is following.
The Low Hanging Fruit Picker
Cool. You have a dog, niece, nephew, whatever. And yeah, sure, they’re cute. But much like the photos you see on Facebook from your friends with kids and puppies, 99 percent of the population doesn’t care after the first month you started posting them. And the other 1 percent are your parents who are too old to be on Snapchat anyway. Stop exhausting us with your low hanging fruit. Variety is the spice of life, and I’m tired of sifting through photos of your cat in order to find babes.
The Self-Imposed Comedian
We get it, man. When you talk directly into the camera and tell your dumb ass jokes, you’re testing the waters because you low-key want to be a comedian and you’re hoping someone will respond, “Oh my God, you’re like, so funny. You should do stand-up!” Well, here’s a dose of reality for you: it’s creepy and it makes me feel wildly uncomfortable. It’s kind of like when someone starts singing in public and you get a sense of dread because you’re not sure if they’ll be absolutely terrible or not, so you spend their entire performance thinking, “Just please don’t fuck up.” Just start a podcast that no one will listen to instead and save us all from cringing when you pop up in our Recent Updates menu.
Woe is you because you have a stack of papers at work or a messy bedroom that desperately needs cleaning. If I wanted to see that shit, I’d get a job I hate and lack respect for my belongings. But guess what? I’m not about that life so stop bringing me down.
Cool, man. You go to clubs. You get bottles. Said bottles have sparklers on them. There’s a DJ blasting Avicii or whoever the kids are listening to these days. But guess what — the strobe light is annoying, it’s too dark for us to see what you’re doing, and every noise on your video is unintelligible because there’s a homogenous mix of yelling, bass, people acting like douchebags. .
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