Only the wisest and stupidest of people never change – Confucius

It’s simple. If I see one more f*cking disco ball in my feed, I am going to throw my phone into the East River. Every Instagram dump these days—especially if you’re in Manhattan and follow people in the area—is almost exactly the same. I’m not even exaggerating. I mean it when I say exactly the same. Starting with a blurry mirror selfie, you’ll swipe to find overpriced pasta, three espresso martinis in some dim restaurant mood lighting, a digital camera group photo, maybe a flick on some brownstone steps for flavor, topped off with surprise! A f*ckin’ disco ball at the same two clubs everyone goes to. Like damn. Don’t even tell me we’re going through a shortage of originality in supposedly the MOST original city in the world. Please. Give me something. Think at least a half inch outside the box. Show me something unhinged. Show me your bruised knee from the night out girl. Or a silly goofy photo you took with the bouncer no matter how arched your back is or how duck-like your lips are. I don’t care. It’s times like these when I wish we could bring back tumblr. I miss the days of posting the most random sh*t on the face of the planet and still getting engagement, regardless. I’m interested in looking at quite literally anything—even the toilet you hurled your guts out in—except for you next to a dj booth or damned disco ball.