as you all probably know by now, i’m the sh*t.
don’t be mad at me, though. i can’t help it, and even if i could, i probably wouldn’t. it seems like it’d be too time-consuming
still, while being the sh*t has its obvious perks and bonuses (ie: free chicken from starbucks and the inherent ability to switch stations back the exact moment the commercial is over), i’m actually a bit over my sh*ttyness now because apparently everyone else thinks they’re the sh*t too. bummer
between our blogs, twitters, facebook accounts, smart phones, ironic pseudonyms, unironic tattoos, concentrated tastes, and highly specialized professional skill-sets, we have enough collective self-importance to fill aretha’s bras.
while extensive ego-stroking is undoubtedly fun and surprisingly practical (i’ve become quite adept at one-handed typing), hannah seligson’s “do narcissists have better sex” presents evidence that this me-me-me mindset is ruining relationships: Continue reading