Dear Snap Chat,
Nancy Reagan taught me growing up to just say no to drugs and to reinforce that message she made sure that everyone from my generation is reminded of that whenever they see an egg being fried at Sunday brunch. After years of heeding her advice and the fear that my father put into me by informing me I would never be president if I did (Clinton, Bush, Barry…you overachievers) I have finally succumbed to the shady world of addiction. First I experimented with the gateway drug known as the camera phone. After enjoying it for a while its effects soon wore off and it took more and more pics of my dog, food, cocktails and random acts of society to satisfy my cravings. This was when I discovered the even more addictive Instagram. One hit of this and all I kept asking for was more to the point that I now have enough material of Cosby’s latest photo shoot at the ranch to fill the next 3 years worth of calendars (and they will be only $19.95 plus tax people, my lifestyle isn’t cheap). My appetite continued to grow for something that would appease my two greatest social media addictions of pictures and the power of text and yes that is when I found you Snap Chat and along with millions of others I cannot get enough of your magic. Here is how most days go for me right now: Sitting on the couch and make a goofy face…Snap Chat. At the ranch throwing a ball to the crazy black guy that calls the back of my pick-up home….Snap Chat. Sitting in a tractor hopped up on Red Bull….Snap Chat. Ice cold beer and one thumb up…Snap Chat. My primary form of communication has now evolved from face to face conversations to spending hours on the phone to texting like a 14 year old who needs her own reality show to now a snap followed by 28 letters strung together in a sentence that last up to ten seconds or a short video followed by even shorter commentary to get my message across. So please I ask you all as my family and friends that if you ever come across me indulging in this fascination I have of the paparazzi lifestyle followed by me typing away stop me, take my phone away and put a good book in my hand and tell me it will be alright if the world doesn’t know what I had for dinner or what Cosby looks like after the tenth time in the irrigation ditch or why a picture of a Bloody Mary with a thumbs up just isn’t that important to the rest of the world. Sometimes even the best of us need that intervention.
PS. Happy Hump day peeps. Like always KCCO and remember…..You’re bacon because you are delicious.