Turns out, there’s more than one meaning to Cardi B’s latest hit, WAP. While her lyrics are quite impressive and fun to rap along to (I spent an entire workday last week trying to learn all of the words), I much prefer the song’s alternative message . . . which I just made up: WAP, or work and patience. Anyone reading this most likely already knows the secret to a happy, successful life: work and patience. Unfortunately, I always seem to get to the party a little late, and then I’m often immediately asked to leave. Therefore, it has taken me a little bit of time—fine, a long ass time—to . . .
If I ever see Mark Zuckerberg in public, I’m going to walk right up to him and tell him to eat a dick. Maybe I’ll punch him in the face. Maybe I’ll just keep on walking. After all, jail is no place for a delicate flower like me. Still, I’ll at least give him the finger. (For legal purposes, let me be clear: I’m not going to attack Fuckerberg—I mean, Zuckerberg. Small joke.) Though, the same thought is present for the dimwit who created Twitter, Instagram . . . What the hell? Let’s throw in the founders of Snapchat, Tumblr, TikTok, Telegram, Grindr, porn sites, and any other app that . . .
I recently decided to conduct a survey. Nothing official, of course. I wouldn’t even begin to know how to do something like that. Also, too much work. Unpaid work. Like Todrick Hall says, “I don’t work for free; that’s not the tea, hunty. No, ma’am!” No, ma’am, indeed. Therefore, when I say I “conducted a survey,” I really texted a handful of random friends and asked for their opinion on a certain subject matter. Don’t worry random friends who may be reading this: I’ve kept you all anonymous. Anonymous, like that one time . . . You know what? A story not appropriate for sharing. So, . . .
I don’t often talk about the writing process—more specifically, my writing process—because I don’t find it that interesting. Everyone who writes has a different process; there is no right way or wrong way to write. As long as words somehow magically get down onto the paper, then the process is working. Simply put: If it helps you write, do it. If it doesn’t help you write, don’t do it. End of story. I write every single day. Well, try to write every single day. Fine! I have the intention to write every single day. So far, that seems to be working. I’ve managed to somehow write numerous . . .
I once went on a date with this guy. Let's see . . . I have to call him something. We'll call him Mr. Douche, as I want to respect his privacy slash don't remember his real name. That's not true. I do remember his name; that's how excited I'd been to officially go out with him. Before the night of the date, I was extremely nervous. Not taking my SATs kind-of-nervous, even more so than that. I'd say it was like waiting for test results from the clinic after a busy holiday weekend kind-of-nervous. You see, I'd casually crossed paths with Mr. Douche a few times before he officially asked me . . .