Pinterest, you are a lying piece of crap. You can get all cute and dolled-up but the fact remains: you’re faker than a porn star’s boobs.
When we first met, I admit, it was love at first sight. There were so many interesting things about you. It really seemed like you loved to cook and from all the pictures you showed me it also seemed that you were a GOOD cook. So, uh, I think you know where I’m going with this, don’t you, Pinterest? You lied to me. You know it and so do I. You know HOW I know this, Pinterest? Well, I’ll tell you, I’ve tried several of your recipes and the same two things happen every time; Vomit and food poisoning. Yeah, your low-fat wonton pizzas; more like wonton get to the toilet as soon as possible! And then those 5 ingredient turkey and rice meatballs….’Meat’ me in the bathroom while I choke up this dry, nasty turkey and crunchy uncooked rice. Now what am I gonna do with all this Nutella and all these refrigerator biscuits?? What the Hell, Pin? Nothing turns out good, and certainly not like your pictures. But hey, I’m not the best cook either, and you’re so pretty and interesting, that I could forgive this….if THIS was all there was.
But no, it’s not; there’s the pallets. Why did you encourage me to get so many, Pinterest? I can’t make porch furniture out of these things! I’m not a carpenter! What was I thinking running around all over the county begging businesses for their damn pallets?… You!! You did this. You said, “Just get some, there are so many things we can do with them together. Here, I’ll show you…” Only, yeah my pallets aren’t perfect and pretty. I got like 7 splinters just carrying the stupid things to the backyard. Now, they sit there, and you know what I’ve made with all the pallets, my darling? A rat’s nest. There may even be a snake in there and I’m pretty sure I saw some wasps moving in. Now, together, my husband and I just fight over the pile of pallets in the backyard. Great fun.
Pinterest, since I met you, I’m a mess. The skin on my feet is still just as dry and rough as it was before your Listerine and vinegar soak. My tie-dye nails look like I let a toddler paint them. My eye make-up is not sexy; it’s Mimi from Drew Carey. My husband is no longer speaking to me after I have cut up all his shirts in an effort to make myself some new outfits and I’m covered in rashes from all the DIY lotions and pore strips and self-tanners. Lastly, don’t even make me tell you the details of the “detoxing” fruit waters you showed me how to make. I don’t know how many toxins get flushed but I did come up with a new theory on detox: Fruit-water in = Fruit-water out.
I’ve bought so many craft supplies that Hobby Lobby is now able to pay for birth control for not only its own employees but those of Michael’s and Joann Fabrics as well! And all to make “recycled art” from things you profess people have just lying around their house. But I don’t have that stuff, Pinterest, and no one I knew had any either and I really wanted those damn rubber tire palm trees and golf ball bugs! My husband is threatening to build an additional wing onto the house just to store all my burlap and chevron fabric! He says he found some instructions on how to build the whole thing with pallets; I wonder where he found that?