The Boys of Fall

This morning, like most mornings, I pulled up to the Dunkin’ Donuts drive-thru and ordered a large Dark Roast Iced Coffee from the extraordinary comfort of my award-winning Subaru Legacy. “Zero cream, zero sugar.” I loudly enunciated those words to the young woman taking my order, just to assure her that my ultra-masculine taste buds don’t need to be pampered with flamboyant sweeteners. To my surprise, she didn’t respond by audibly moaning, but instead by awkwardly pausing and then sheepishly uttering a forced script, asking if I’d like to donate a dollar to some pathetic charity I can’t recall because her soft, intimidated voice was drowned out by Jack Johnson’s Greatest Hits roaring from my stereo.

“Make it two dollars,” I instantly replied, just so she’d know precisely what’s good with my bank account and moral compass. But before her feeble larynx could vocalize a moan, I was already at the drive-thru window, eagerly waiting to be caffeinated while the uplifting sounds of Banana Pancakes preemptively sent a jolt of energy throughout my CrossFit-chiseled body. The face-to-face transaction was anticlimactic, but I could tell by the confused look on that naive barista’s face that she was completely unprepared to be so aroused at such an early hour. I guess it’s not everyday that a rugged, yet noble, philanthropist pulls up to your workplace in a best-in-class all-wheel drive midsize sedan and speeds off into the rising sun right before your eyes.

I’m not really going anywhere with this story; I just wanted to make everyone a little uncomfortable with the creepiest and douchiest introduction I could think of on the spot. The real reason for this blog is to address the same topic I always seem to address: Twitter sucking a treacherous and ungodly amount of ass. At this point, I’m beating a horse that’s been dead since Seabiscuit and grabbing a fruit that’s hanging lower than the average, visible scrotum in a YMCA locker room. Unless you’ve been comatose or cryogenically frozen for the last 5–8 years, you’re at least somewhat aware that Twitter has been swiftly devolving into a digital cesspool that’s overflowing with millions of fluid characters worth of contaminated thoughts and opinions. It’s only been, like, 3 weeks since I last wrote about Twitter being a garbage dump, but I swear to @jack, the site has somehow managed to get significantly worse in that short timespan.

Fall is here, which means a cornucopia of Caucasian cornballs will be concocting and consuming atrocious tweets like the ones above, at unprecedented rates. And if the oddly, over-exaggerated excitement for mundane autumn activities doesn’t tickle your fancy, then take the butternut squash out of your ass and learn to love it, because that’s exactly what’s going to be infiltrating your timeline for the next 2–3 months. Viral tweets don’t lose sleep over the opinions of sheep.

It should also be noted that the demand for hyper-corny, quasi-romantic tweets are at an all time high around this time of year. Just like the autumn leaves coming down, thousands of young adults are completely depleted of serotonin, because they spent the entire summer abusing neurotoxic drugs at music festivals and depriving their malnourished bodies of essential nutrients. This chemical imbalance in the brain leads to emotional vulnerability and the desperate yearning for a partner who will comfort them and provide them with happiness. That’s why they’re so quick to fall for the redundant tweets about going on hayrides and carving pumpkins with a significant other. Not because they actually enjoy tediously sticking a knife in a thick, pulp-filled orange vegetable, but because they crave the opportunity of having a lover who will do anything at all with them.

With the change of seasons also comes the change of identities. It’s a time when edgy teens can switch up their Twitter name from Bipolar Avocado Thot to Spooky Pumpkin Cunt and tweet shit like: “forget shower sex, fuck me in a witch’s cauldron.”

Okay, I’ll bite. Who the fuck is this guy? That’s a rhetorical question because I finally worked up the guts to google him and apparently he’s a 22 year old male actor who stars in diverse films like How to Build a Better Boy and To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. Both of those movie titles look like the name of an Odyssey Online article written by a heartbroken college sophomore named Bayleigh Lynn McClanahan, so it’s only fitting that the boy who cried “fuck…you’re so cute,” finessed those roles.

He must be an absolute heartthrob on the big* screen, because this tweet is alarmingly creepy and he still somehow managed to steal the heart of over 300 thousand people. I was minding my own business at Panera Bread when I saw it for the first time and I promptly threw away my $15 half-sandwich and rushed home to shower because I felt so violated after reading it. Maybe I’m being a drama king, but I swear that spaced-out ellipsis after the word “Fuck” should legally qualify as sexual assault in all 50 states. You’d think that a 22 year old man would get relentlessly shamed for such a flagrant tweet, but like a thief in the night, this provocative, Peter-playing, prima donna pick-pocketed more likes than the population of Pittsburgh.


Take a look at this modern philosopher of mathematics who so graciously enlightened us with free wisdom instead of having this quote published in a scholarly article.

The cause of Edgar Allan Poe’s death still remains uncertain, but I’m almost positive he didn’t die for this literary genius to practice poetry on my timeline.

I gasped

I’ll take back every negative word I said about this guy if he legitimately goes out of his way to crouch on frog statues every Wednesday. Like, if he has a genuine passion for seeking out rare amphibious structures that he can perch on for hours at a time, I’d be forced to respect him. However, I have a hunch that he just thought this would be a hilarious photo opportunity to trick his followers into thinking he’s a rambunctious mischief-maker, and that all of the “yes men” in his entourage supported the idea.

“Hey man, how funny would it be if I like…hopped on that frog over there [nervously giggles] and like [bites lip sexually for some reason] posed for a silly picture?”

“Noah…dude! [uncontrollable fake laughter] Please f***ing do that man, I’ll take the pic right now bro!”

Horniness loading…

A tweet so horny that it couldn’t even fit into a single screenshot. You know it’s time to deactivate your account and seek professional help, when a trillion dollar company like Apple doesn’t even have the technological features capable of capturing all the horniness in your tweets.

I shouldn’t instinctively wince after reading a ~200 character tweet and yet here I am. I’m fearful that we’ve reached a level of horniness and deeply-rooted sexual frustration on Twitter that cannot be topped, and the only logical next step is for these guys to make the transition to committing heinous crimes in real life.

It’s humbling to see that these horndogs were completely unfazed by my last hit piece. I guess this is just a battle I can’t win. The unrelenting testosterone of the Dillons and Kadens and Camerons of the world is far too powerful for someone like me.

I’m just gonna leave this here without commentary. I didn’t read it, but apparently it’s a “break up” thread/love letter that a girl publicly wrote to her ex-boyfriend, and if that’s the case, no jokes I crack or insults I make can do the wackness of it justice.

Alright, that’s it. Have a blessed day, everyone. The weekend’s almost here, football’s back, and we’ve finally reached a point where the people who hate Colin Kaepernick and the people who hate Asian child labor can finally unite as one and boycott Nike in harmony.

PS… I’ll be staying off Twitter for a little while, so if you have any positive or negative feedback to give me about this blog, then tell me on Venmo (kbnoswag)