Friday

people are pathetic

They write "secrets" on postcards and send them to these guys, who scan them and put them on their webpage. But before you visit, think about what you're likely to see. If you said drippy, whining self-pity, you're right!

This reminds me of when I discovered in ninth grade that in order to get an A for writing a poem, all I had to do was make it as gay as possible. No poetry teacher can resist lavishing accolades on a gay-ass, faux-introspective poem about meaningfulness and the poet's tortured sentimentality.

PostSecret

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