Dear Social Media Models...

I was really going to post this to Twitter, but, damn it, 140 characters just isn't enough. 
So, young ladies, please hear me out:  
You're beautiful. You're gorgeous. You're even hott (with TWO t's, nonetheless) and you've taken a couple of cute pictures. But...  
...you are NOT a model.  
Modeling takes skill. Training. Dedication. Much more than a few iPhone shots in a bathroom mirror speckled with toothpaste.  
So, take the photo comments and RTs of your twitpics for what they're worth and, then, #GoSitDown!  
I promise it's not hate. As a matter of fact, it's because I LOVE you all so much that I refuse to let you continue looking like fools without doing something about it. 
And, while you're doing something sensible anyway, like taking the word "model" out the Occupation section of your profile, put on some clothes. #PleaseAndThankYou  


Love, Ophelia

Dear Hot Pocket Crisper...

Dear Hot Pocket Crisper,

You're a liar. You claim to be able to make my beloved Meatball and Mozzarella Hot Pocket not only hot, but crispy and more delicious, with your fake foil lining and prolonged instructions. But, in reality, you just burn the very edges, making my once-satisfying lunch sandwich thingy a veritable brick of crust on the outside and a mess of lava-hot goo on the inside. And your "handy" perforated edges designed to help me "fold" you into a device worthy of caressing my edible pouch of goodness - we both know it is but a cruel joke. I attempt to manipulate you into the correct shape only to burn the tips of my fingers and drop my precious pastry onto the floor and cry sad, hungry tears of regret.

You suck.

Love, Ophelia