Hey, Red Onion, can we talk? Sit down. Yeah, you’re going to want to sit. I know that’s a heavy way to start a conversation, but this isn’t some casual chit chat amongst layered friends. This is an intervention. No, no, I know you’re not out there on the ole’ crystal pony, squeezing balloons and warming metal spoons for a hit of life. No, it’s not about the devil’s brew either. I’ve got no problem with your once every lunar cycle night on the town. No, it’s not about your insistence that your Beanie Baby collection will someday be worth the GDP of Malta (but dude, that’s just not going to happen). Then what, you ask? Well if you’d stop asking me questions, I could tell you (and frankly now I’m considering an interruption intervention). You ready? Good. We need to talk about your selfies.
So this pic… it’s… well… it’s not good. Not flattering in the least bit. You know I love you, but… come on now. You could at least make yourself look at a little appetizing. It’s embarrassing to see that type of picture online. Are you proud of that? When you look at that pic do you feel good about yourself? Because you shouldn’t. You look like shit. It’s gross. What in the actual fuck are you doing there? Are you trying to seduce a hamburger bun? Is this supposed to be a candid interpretation of modern art? Are you Andy Warholing that shit, but got way too lazy to evenly spread yourself out? I have no idea what this is supposed to be, Red Onion. Your entire body is basically duck lips. I’m sorry, but you need to stop. Your selfie game is mad weak.
You want to know why you don’t have 30k Instagram followers? It’s because you look like the hair in Barney the Dinosaur’s armpit. Okay, okay, calm down. That was a little harsh, you’re right. You don’t look that bad. But you’re not exactly setting stomachs a grumbling or mouths a watering either. I get that it’s difficult. I know you’re just an onion. It’s not like you can maximize that downward camera angle, or smirk your lips to the side, or scrunch up your face like you’re impersonating a rabbit. Hell, you don’t even have arms. You’re limited, without a doubt. But dude… that’s still not a very good photo. And it’s online forever now. It’s being screenshotted and reblogged and twitpic’d and lol’d at by the entire world. Are you really okay with that? Are you really okay with being the naked Red Onion posing on a takeout box? Are you really okay with the world seeing you at your lonely condiment self?
Oh. You are? Well… shit, dude. Keep doing you then, I guess. But for real, you should know that picture sucks.
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