Over the weekend, this disgusting tweet popped up on my timeline:
Cassie Young, obviously a SELFISH individual, is a member of some show I’ve never heard of, a style guide for all the curvy individuals out there, and a lover of cheese (always gotta have a relatable fact in your Twitter bio!):
I responded, defending the rights of football lovers everywhere:
To which she called me out on my “shallowness of character:”
As I told Cassie, if you plan a fall wedding, that is a YOU problem. This is America. Land of the free, home of the brave, and lovers of football. You know what happens in the spring? Nothing. Same with the winter after the Super Bowl. I will gladly attend your wedding then and pretend to care about the event you spent thousands on to prop up your status/make your friends who aren’t married yet jealous. There are 22 football weekends every year. Do not take one away from me. A true friend of mine wouldn’t put their wedding during one of those weekends.
If you are a bold soul that does partake in fall weddings, put it on a Friday. I don’t want to be sweating my Kent State +17 bet while watching your drunk jealous friends dance nostalgically to the song that was a staple at their college bar. I should be sweating that bet alone, on my couch, while watching on a grainy illegal stream I found on Reddit, like a true degenerate. If you are lucky enough for me to show up to this wedding, don’t disturb me watching on my phone. As Kanye West once put it: “You should be honored by my lateness/That I would even show up to this fake shit.”
This problem should’ve been taken care of in the Constitution. I know, I know, football wasn’t around when the Constitution was written, but the greatest document in this countries history should’ve been forward thinking enough to put this in as an amendment.
That is all.