These days, when I look at Miley Cyrus, I see a giant question mark. I just don’t get it. She was allowed on someone’s stage recently, dressed like a gross fairy from my worst nightmare, and did her rendition of Khia’s classic track, “My Neck, My Back.” I actually think Miley’s version ended up being a little raunchier than the original, if that’s possible, but somewhere in the middle of all of her yelling, she actually made a pretty good point:
“We are all gonna be in the same room together, not telling our fuckin’ friends who aren’t in this room that we’re in this fuckin’ room. We are gonna be in this fuckin’ room. And you’re gonna turn the fuck-up. Get the fuck off Instagram, motherfucker!”
Here’s the full, very NSFW, video:
That was weird. Someone please get this girl a thesaurus.
Seriously though, stop trying to impress people on social networks, and live your damn life. I just got back from a vacation where I had a really great time – beaches, booze, way too much food, even got to see one of my favorite artists in concert (I’m not telling you who, because I don’t need your judgment). I got a call from a friend of mine asking if I was still out of town. When I said yeah [What the fuck do you want? Don’t disturb me on my vaca.], she asked me why I wasn’t posting any pictures. I thought about it and got a little annoyed. Why the fuck are we expected to share every awesome thing that we do with people that we don’t even really like on the internet? I’m pretty sure there are a ton of people who think that if their vacation, night out on the town, or new fucking baby don’t garner 100+ likes on Instagram, then it didn’t really happen.
I definitely admit to taking part in social networks, especially since our generation is responsible for their overwhelming popularity now. Everything must come to an end, though, and I think my end is coming near. I can still remember when I first joined Facebook. It was before they started allowing just anyone to get an account, and you needed either a college e-mail address or an invitation to join. I was still in high school, and I was obviously really popular amongst the college crowd, so getting an invitation was no big deal for me…
(Okay, that was a lie. My older sister was in college, and I forced her to send me an invitation to join. But I was still on there before most high school kids, and that’s what really counts.)
Now I’ve fallen to the lowly ranks of people who don’t quite get it when a new app emerges. I’ve had Snapchat for a while now, but I’ve never been too active on it. I told a buddy of mine that I’m just not comfortable with posting stories that I can’t get back. He told me that I can delete them if I want to, which I thought was a great thing, until I decided to check it out. I had no fucking clue that you can see how many times your post was viewed, and WHO viewed it. I thought I was being a normal creep, looking at people’s posts, and it turns out that they’ve KNOWN that I was creeping the entire time. Epic fucking fail. Before you know it, I’m going to be like your aunt that asks you how to work her new phone at the family party.
I won’t even get started on any other social media platforms because I just can’t keep up. This whole rant may or may not be happening because I’m bitter about not being cool anymore, but if that’s the case, I’ll never admit it. I do really think it’s important to look up, look around, and take in the beautiful fucking life you’ve got. Take pictures and videos if you want to remember it forever, but don’t forget that the rest of us probably don’t care.
This is one instance in life where it’s 100% acceptable to take a second and ask yourself, “What would Miley Cyrus do?” before taking action. #WWMCD? (Did I use that hashtag right?).
Image via Shutterstock