Snapchat has got to be one of the lamest apps on the fucking planet. Like what the hell are you supposed to do there? I don't even post on there, I just get random thirst DMs that I end up ignoring. So as I was laying on my couch, with Jerry Springer playing on the TV, I deleted Snap.
It felt kinda liberating— is that the word? Yeah, I think it is.
Then I moved onto Instagram. And as I was scrolling, I saw a post talking about a party at some penthouse in Lower Manhattan. Besides the fact that I'm supposed to be having a movie night with Sasha and Jean, I wasn't really in the mood for a party. So I skipped the post and kept scrolling through the app until I got a text message from both Sasha and Jean.
