clothedbath

No, seriously. Don’t give me wifi access. The smartphone is occasionally acceptable for me to have, but a computer and wifi, NO. NOT ALLOWED.

A few of you have witnessed what I do with an internet connection and it’snot pretty at all.Whatsoever.

And whomever invented tumblr’s ‘search tags’ feature… SHAME ON YOU.

…while my heart is still in the 90s.

When I stayed up late to watch TGIF, Snick, and Saturday Night Live. When Keenan Thompson sat in a bathtub with a raincoat on and spouted silly French phrases at me. When Mr. Show with Bob and David and The State were still on the air. When Martha Stewart was an innocent housewife trainer. When Jerry Springer ruled daytime Shock shows instead of Maury “You Are Not The Father” Povich. When we had Bob Barker instead of Drew Carey and Drew Carey instead of Jim Belushi.

When Billy Corgan didn’t make pop music and Kurt Cobain was still around. When flannel and distorted guitars that only played three chords ruled all instead of guys who cry about girls who curb-stomped their hearts. When electronic and industrial music actually had lyrics that meant something. AND they played instruments over trashcan beats, not just pressed play on a computer.

Maybe it’s that I was a child in the 90s and got the cool stuff before I was supposed to. Whenever I looked in my textbooks or watched Saved By The Bell, I wanted to be those teenagers with bad haircuts and neon and acid-washed clothes. Maybe I grew up so fast that I’m a mean old lady now that tells kids stories about back in my day, when I’m really just a couple years older.

Either way, I miss em. They should come over and hang out sometime.