If You’re Drunk, Exit Out Of Instagram Stories And Put It On Snapchat Instead

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I never wanted it to come to this, but somewhere along the way I stopped getting on Snapchat as much as I used to. The time that I used to spend posting on Snapchat is slowly but surely pivoting to more time spent on Instagram. Everyone and their mother is on Instagram now and Snapchat just feels like it’s bleeding out.

I went live on Instagram last Saturday night. For five minutes, I stood in the middle of a crowded dance floor and blankly stared at my phone screen while 15 to 20 people watched and told me how stupid I looked.

It’s called performance art, okay? Shia Labeouf does it all the time which obviously means that I should be doing it too. It was a stray away from my normal antics on Instagram live, where I’m usually a. Smoking a cigarette or b. eating small curd cottage cheese and talking to folks about what they have planned for the day.

After I ended the live session, I began posting to my story feed on Instagram rather than posting it on Snapchat. Chugging drinks, dancing suggestively, and giving people wet willies. Sophomoric behavior. It was fun, no doubt, but it was shithead behavior through and through.

I didn’t think anything of my Instagram live session or subsequent story posting until the next day when I got a text message from my mother telling me that one of my aunts had watched the Instagram live session and the other clips on my story and was concerned about my well being.

No, mom. I’m not on drugs. I was just having fun. Tell Aunt Patty to get off of Instagram and to let me live my goddamn life. Jesus.

I didn’t really say that but I was thinking it. And it’s not Aunt Patty’s fault. She just wants to be included and I understand that. It just sucks that Instagram has become the new Facebook. Instagram was once a safe haven for you and your friends to get ‘grams off without the fear of being judged.

Instagram used to be the app where people knew they could post things without any serious backlash from relatives or friends with sticks up their asses. Now we’ve got kids use Finstas (this stands for “fake Instagram”) so that they can post without fear of mom or dad seeing something and having a stroke.

We’ve got people over 50 years old posting grainy pictures of the front of their house with no caption. Aunts, Uncles, parents, and grandparents posting pictures of a table they just picked up from Costco and 500-word diatribes as captions.

Nobody likes to bring rules into things. That’s how people get wrinkles. But if we’re going to continue posting on Instagram it’s high time that we laid down just one simple ground rule that will prevent all of us from having an Aunt Patty or parent freak out on us. It’s not even a rule. It’s a credo, and I think we’re all going to be better people for using it.

If you’re hammered drunk, post whatever it is you’re going to post on Snapchat. If you’re sober, toss it on the ‘gram.

It’s that easy, and I think I’m going to save everyone reading this a lot of headaches with Thanksgiving Eve on the horizon. Snapchat has become the app where you can be as trashy as you want to be. No self-respecting adult over 40 has Snapchat, and if they do it was downloaded by one of their kids as a joke and they never even think about using it.

Snapchat is where I should have gone last Saturday night when I was hammering vodka-sodas and giving people wet willies. Instagram is for sober, more wholesome stories. A boomerang of a crackling fireplace or a nice shot of your significant other in front of something picturesque. I thought that Snapchat might be on it’s way out when I started writing this, but now I’ve convinced myself that these two apps can coexist. There’s still a time and a place for Snapchat, and it’s when your one tequila shot away from vomiting in a dive bar’s bathroom sink.

Instagram stories and Snapchat stories are the same in theory, but these two worlds cannot be merged and they never will be. I made the mistake of thinking that I could be Snapchat John Duda on Instagram. Don’t make the error I did, or your Aunt Patty will probably sit you down after that Thanksgiving meal and ask you something like, “Is everything okay at home?”.

Image via Unsplash

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Johnny D

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• jduda@grandex.co