Burn in hell, Pinterest

I think. A lot. Too much, really. I think the shit out of a thing and then never actually do it. Probably because I thought so hard about it that it shriveled up and disintegrated, powerless against the intense heat of my brainpower. Call me a procrastinator, call me lazy, whatever. In my humble opinion, there are plenty of people out there who should’ve thought a bit harder about things before just hauling off and doing them. Mark Wahlberg accepting the role in The Planet of the Apes, Counting Crows covering “Big Yellow Taxi”, whenever Michele Bachmann opens her mouth, etc.

Anyway, the other day whilst doing all the thinking, I started thinking about Hell. Does it exist? If so, what is it like? Is it all fire and brimstone and narrated by Vincent Price? OR does everyone get their own customized slice of it? Replete with everything that you loathed on Earth? How absolutely awful and kind of morbidly fun to imagine. If the latter is true, then I know exactly what is waiting for me on the other side: Van Halen, separating coffee filters, close talkers, public pools full of used Band-Aids and PINTEREST.

I’m pretty sure Pinterest was released into this dimension when some poor bastard unwittingly solved the Cenobites’ Lament Configuration. And it has been the source of pain and suffering and silly DIY ideas for millions ever since.

All this thinking makes me sleepy

All this thinking makes me sleepy

Let me put it this way: I am an anxious person. Well, anxious is an understatement – I am a big, electric, glowing and sparking ball of nerves. Why did I ever think something like Pinterest would be a good idea for me? A site designed to make the ordinary, uncrafty, not-so-crunchy people of the world like me feel like defective a-holes. It’s a brand new world of ridiculous to-do lists. A whole slew of absurd tasks for me to fail at. I’m failing just fine at regular people life, like keeping my family alive and the toilet clean. Why do I need to introduce decorative paper folding into that equation? And I know if my origami cherry blossom forest doesn’t look just like the picture, I’m going to lose my shit and possibly burst into flames.

So you’re on Pinterest and you’re creating boards and pinning stuff and you realize you want to have a do-over wedding and become a party planner. You and your whole life suddenly suck. Why aren’t I converting my coat closet into an excruciatingly-hip mini collapsible office with ikat accents? Why am I not handmaking kitschy mustache straws for my swanky mustache-themed backyard barbeque that no one will come to/appreciate? And why in the actual fuck have I not made pistachio shell flowers and miniscule donuts with sprinkles and my own paper and my own ink to write on my own paper AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!! If only there was a Pinterest project for cloning yourself I would do that and then slap the crap out of my clone for ever looking at Pinterest in the first place. Then I would make the much anticipated sequel to that awesome Michael Keaton clone movie.