A few days ago, my boyfriend asked if he could contribute a post to my blog. Amused, I said why not, and shortly thereafter I received this write up. Keep in mind, it's all in good humor and I thought it would be fun to share the male perspective on this with you. In fact, he titled this "I Hope You're Happy," in response to the fact that I actually agreed to let him do this.
My trashcan overflows with discarded CVS brand organic cotton balls stained with with hues only barely distinguishable from one another. Bottles of nail polish obstruct my view of Kevin Spacey in the oval office, and the smell of acetone has permeated the walls of my apartment. My name is Jared S. and I'm dating a nail polish blogger.
|Silver Remote for Apple TV|
Several times a week I'm asked to choose a color. I make my choice only to hear, "Are you sure?" or "Why that color?" Inevitably my selection, which I never cared to make in the first place, is thrown away like an empty bottle of Essie Quick Dry (quick life hack ladies, those empty bottles can be used to hold a single, very short stemmed rose). Every shopping trip requires a detour to the nail polish section. We could be looking for bedding or maybe on the way to a life saving operation but let's make a quick stop at Sally Beauty. I hate that I know what Sally Beauty is.
Do you really need to
paint polish your nails during Broad City? Why are you pinning a color? What's a pin? What have you readers done to my girl friend? It's an addiction. It's unhealthy and it's scary. Now if you'll excuse me, I have 6 episodes of House of Cards to binge watch. If I stay up all night, I'm pretty sure I can finish by work tomorrow