August 14, 2014
Every betch has that anxiety inducing moment where she realizes a selfie won’t do her outfit or the scene justice. We frantically look around for the gay BFF who makes sure to focus on our good side but sometimes – Beyonce bless us – we have to rely on a stranger. Do it for the vine is nothing compared to the sacrifices betches have made for the Instragram. When I’m coerced by some evil force to ask a stranger to snap a quick pic, they should at least have the common decency to follow the 10 Commandments for strangers taking my picture.
If I’d wanted a fucking landscape pic I would’ve just Googled the place and saved myself the $50 cover charge.
The whole point of this photo is for people to know I’m quiche enough to be served underage.
You are not Jay Emmanuel or Nigel Barker – I don’t need fucking 30 frames to get my best shot. My resting bitch face does not smize and the closest I will come to flirting with the camera is punching your neck.
I did not wear inappropriate shoes or pay for my pilates instructor’s divorce so you could ignore my legs.
For some reason, you’re not aware that by agreeing to take my photo you’ve entered into a binding contract. You should’ve alerted me to your tremor disorder before picking up my iphone and you will continue to take the picture until I’m satisfied – spoiler alert this was the origin of indentured servitude.
I did not ask for a DNA deposit on my most precious possession. There are better ways to get ebola.
A betch never picks a hot bro to take the photo – I don’t want to be disappointed by you before we’ve hooked up, let’s save that for during or after.
Obvi, I’ve been screenshotting too many snapchats to use as blackmail so I’ve got like no storage left on my iphone (where the fuck is ios8??). I don’t need twelve photos of me fixing my hair or straightening my skirt. You’re not the papparazi and this is not TMZ.
A betch already knows she looks good when she goes out, but we also will never turn down a free compliment. Even though I’ll definitely roll my eyes, this is the most crucial rule of all.
After four minutes of looking quiche as fuck, this whole process has been boring as shit. Somebody get me a fresh drink.