Hey Girl...

I don't like surprises.

I know surprises are supposed to make you feel all loved and mushy and appreciative and stuff. And, it's usually considered rude to yell, "you guys suck" in the middle of what's considered an upscale local restaurant. Especially when your friends have just put together a lovely birthday party for you, complete with homemade delicious cupcakes and polka dot balloons.

But I'm me and I don't like being surprised (or annoyed by the bombardment of status updates about politics and religion, specifically aimed at people with my general belief system, but that's a topic for another day I suppose).

And this is why I shouldn't be allowed on Pinterest. Because, among the recipes and craft ideas and array of home decor made from common household items like toilet paper rolls; there is always something that surprises me.

Behold!

(I stole this image from here, and they shouldn't care because I'm about to plug their own brand of crafty cray-cray bringing them website hits and possible business, but if you purchase one, keep it on the DL mmmkay?)

The Crochet Cooter.

Yeah. I said it. It's a crochet vajayjay.

I don't know what one might do with a "Crochet Cooter," but chances are, I don't want to. What you choose to put your peen in or, you know, whatever...none of my business. The only thing I care about is that they didn't take time out to provide courtesy eye bleach for the rest of us, along with a shot of vodka to soak my brain in, because now? I'm scarred.

Forever. 

This is the problem with Pinterest. It invites every brand of psycho. Not just the ones you know about. The women who plan their weddings before they even have a boyfriend. Or, the girls who build their dream house without thinking that maybe their liberal arts degree ain't gonna pay for the 3,000 square foot mansion nestled on a hill in the woods of South Carolina (you need a government job for that, ladies).

No, no. Also on Pinterest? The kind of crazy you are selectively ignorant about.

You like porn? That's fine. You don't need a board dedicated to it. You buy your "crochet cooter" and you wait five to seven days for it to be discreetly delivered in a plain brown box right to your doorstep. You keep that between you, your internet girlfriend and the fine folks at Amazon dot com.

You like cats? That's cool. I have a sweater just for you. You wander around in your bedroom wearing this. Maybe film a YouTube video of you singing an off-key version of I Will Survive. And that's it. I don't want to see you in Target.

(you can find these and more here)

I know that the internet is a hotbed of weirdos. But, before Pinterest, I was lucky enough to only see them here and there. You know, places like Yahoo! News or Huffington Post. If they were on Facebook, I could simply unfriend or hide.

But now? No. My life is ruined by pop up penises and children dressed up as midget pirates that scare the hell out of me. Every crazy stalker chick now has an outlet to vent about boys who broke their hearts in the most creepy way possible. Entire places dedicated to Robert Smith invade my happy world of cakes and pies.

And so... 

(another jacked image from here)

PS: Hey girl. Ryan Gossling? He's not into you.