At best, life is a never-ending parade of meaningless bullsh*t that starts with you screaming, and ends with you in a grave. What can I say, I'm an optimist.
So, why do most of us waste a vast majority of our limited time as a sentient being on what amounts to nothing?
You think Marie Curie would've been the first woman to win a Nobel Prize if she was keeping up with the Kardashians instead of irradiating herself like a total badass?
I say we stop giving a sh*t about keeping up appearances, and start worrying about our own lives:
Seriously, why do I have to hear about what a Real Housewife of Atlanta thinks the Duggar scandal means to her family? Given the opportunity, I'd unplug her life support just to charge my phone.
Netflix taught me about the value of reliable internet. Johnny Walker taught me how to black out. I want for nothing else in life.
What will "so-and-so" think if I don't go to her baby shower? First, maybe she shouldn't expect me to subsidize her terrible life choices.
Second, I've got better things to do than sit around and circle-jerk about how magical being a parent is, or argue over "free-range" children. Much like chicken, I don't care how they're treated before I eat them.
Step 1: Find some friends who don't watch TV. You won't have trouble with this step, as anyone who doesn't watch TV will be more than happy to tell you about it constantly. It's like vegans, but actually worth respecting.
Step 2: Marvel at all the free time you regained.
I know, I know. Drake TOTALLY sold out when he made that song about drinking and dancing, instead of dancing and drinking like he usually does (gun, meet mouth).
There are thousands and thousands of bands and artists. What are the odds your favorite ones are going to be the 15 they play on the radio at any given point?
EXCEPTION: Never forget Beyonce. Never.
Now that you've had practice cultivating your hipster, devil-may-care attitude, you're free to call someone the C-word to their face instead of passive-aggressively posting about it on Facebook 20 minutes later.
It's more refreshing than a wintergreen enema.
Swallow my pride? How about you swallow my fist?
You know how good you feel when you get something off your chest? What if you never piled a bunch of emotional baggage on your chest in the first place?
Why is this entire point all questions? Because I don't give a f*ck, that's why! I wouldn't give you advice I don't follow myself.