This is how it works: you’re young until you’re not. — Regina Spektor
I’m going to lay it down for everyone.
You are a total idiot if you text and drive. You’re also an idiot if you talk on the phone and drive, but if you do it on speakerphone or on a bluetooth then I guess it’s less dumb. They say that texting and driving is worse than drunk driving, which is a relief because now when I drive drunk I don’t feel so bad. KIDDING!!!!! Seriously though, don’t text and drive. It’s fucking distracting. When I’m on my way to meet you, don’t text me. I will not respond. You shouldn’t expect me to respond. Why? BECAUSE I’M DRIVING. If you need to reach me while I am on the way to meet you, either call me or wait until I get there. Pretend it’s 1994 if you have to, and cell phones are not common. If you are on your way to meet me, and you have to tell me something, LITERALLY CALL AND TELL ME. If you text me, I’m going to respond with “DON’T TEXT AND DRIVE.” If you do it again, I will call your ass and tell you to stop. It’s seriously the dumbest fucking thing you can prevent yourself from doing. We all make bad relationship decisions, money decisions, life decisions — don’t make this one. And don’t say to me, “I only text at red lights.” Would you get to a red light and close your eyes? No, because that’s dumb. So don’t text at a red light either, because although you may be stopped, other people are morons and could run the light, run into you, etc. Do not text and drive and if you do, don’t do it in front of me, unless you want me to think of you as a total dumbass.
Why are you jogging at night in the fog on Mulholland Drive? Are you fucking asking me to hit you? Are you fucking stupid? If you need to work out that badly, get a fucking treadmill. It’s like one of The Simpsons Halloween episodes where Ned Flanders says, “Time for my nightly fog walk!” and then is promptly hit by Homer with his car. It’s just ridiculous. You are asking people to hit you with your car when you powerwalk on streets that don’t have sidewalks after 8:00 PM in the fog. I can’t even–
Always RSVP. I cannot tell you how rude it is when you leave someone hanging. You’re not the fucking weather; I shouldn’t have to predict what you’re going to do. Either tell me that you’re coming, that you’re not, or that you’re trying to come. Don’t be lackadaisical about this shit. I admit, I have been done this before, but sometimes I go a few days without checking Facebook, which seems to be the main way to invite people to things. And why not? It’s easy, it’s quick, and everyone is on it. But then you never know if people are going to check it in time. But if you’re updating your goddamn wall and you still haven’t responded, then you should feel bad about yourself. You have failed at being a polite person. Mrs. Potts would be appalled. You are not Gaston. You are not exempt from behaving like a nice adult. Goddamn. And yes, I see the irony here in acting like a bitch while telling people to be nice. But I have the passion because I love. It comes from care and it comes from love. Or something.