Author: Megan Farokhmanesh
At any given time, my Instagram Explore page offers me a mix of tattoo posts, fashion, memes, and the occasional micro-influencer. It’s trained to serve my interests based on data like posts I’ve liked, saved, or what friends have liked. Each swipe is a lottery spin: will this load show me some nice pants I might like to buy, or an ex?
But for the last two weeks, Instagram has come up with a clever new method of torture. May I introduce to you, The Teeth? These Teeth? These?? Teeth??
They are the stadium seating of dental. They are the shining semi-circle sarlacc pit that shreds your soul for being the person who removes their shoes on airplanes. I fear them, but also I want to touch them.
Not impressed? Maybe you’d be...
Continue reading…
Continue reading...
At any given time, my Instagram Explore page offers me a mix of tattoo posts, fashion, memes, and the occasional micro-influencer. It’s trained to serve my interests based on data like posts I’ve liked, saved, or what friends have liked. Each swipe is a lottery spin: will this load show me some nice pants I might like to buy, or an ex?
But for the last two weeks, Instagram has come up with a clever new method of torture. May I introduce to you, The Teeth? These Teeth? These?? Teeth??
They are the stadium seating of dental. They are the shining semi-circle sarlacc pit that shreds your soul for being the person who removes their shoes on airplanes. I fear them, but also I want to touch them.
Not impressed? Maybe you’d be...
Continue reading…
Continue reading...