i want to [insert quote about smiles here] but can’t bring myself to do it because they’re all fucking lame

Despite the fact that I undoubtedly revel in the feistiest qualities of my nature, I can’t help but notice that Katie: Electronic Edition is entirely guilty of the epic overuse of a specific arrangement of colon and parenthesis.

Mug shot of said culprit?

: )

Though I can’t say his semi-colon tinged cousin doesn’t make appearances in my correspondence as well. And yes, this is 1887, and I did just use the word correspondence.

Seriously, of the eleventy-thousand texts, emails, corporate and otherwise, I send everyday, well, I can only roughly estimate, but somewhere around seventeen million percent of them contain one winking wordless compilation of punctuation. Ok maybe even two. Dear god, sometimes there’s even three.

I need a twelve step program, a valium, and a keyboard sans offending buttons, CLEARLY.

But I just can’t help it.

I know my overuse of the dotted eyed and upturned mouthed motherfucker makes me look like a hyperactive eight year old after a cupcake and pixie stick orgy, but OHMYGOD tone does not come across in the written word and when I call you a whore, what I’m really saying is I love you so please don’t take offense of the angry kind because see, see that little smiley face- that means I’m being cheeky, so ha! yes- whore equals love and the same goes for bitch, but when I call you that I’ll probably use a winky one because you must fucking rock to invoke such a term of endearment and therefore deserve a semi colon of the endangered species variety.

Yea. It’s a problem. Because really? I want nothing less than to come off as 1. a cotton candy tinged preteen or 2. nice (the horror!!), but my use of the-face-that-shall-not-be-named marks every one of my utterances as an entirely fluffy fallacy- an ink and paper giggle.

So while I embrace my multitude of other (entirely more harmful) addictions, this nonsense? Has got to stop.

Because the corporate cowboys aren’t offended by the tone of your email about earnings.

Because your best friend knows you’re both whores.

Because when you’re texting a boy something dirty, the use of an electronic wink is entirely unneeded because OHMYGOD you just used the word cock, so yes, I think he’s entirely aware of your intentions.

So, if the first step is admitting you have a problem, then label me ready for number two.

What is it again?

Come to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

Well. fuck.

Looks like I’m going to be counting myself among the twos for a while because, hello!

I’m in charge here!

job of the day: sideshow circus performer

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~ by rubylocks on February 19, 2010.

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