Your Snapchats are bad, and you should feel bad.
I mean, what happened? At its onset, the popular app was the go-to tool for all those who were knee-deep in the sext game. In those days, whenever you opened a Snapchat, you felt assured knowing that your eyes would soon be bearing witness to an ample, bare bosomed vixen wetting your smut beak. Snapchat, in essence, was a free tit sample, of which all evidence would disappear ten seconds later like it were the contents of one of Cory Monteith’s syringes.
Not to get all hipster on you, but Snapchat started going down the shitter once it became too mainstream. The market started letting too many players in, and worst of all, these players are fucking snoozefests. I’m on the verge of deleting my account (JParksTFM, tits please, no dicks or poop in the bowl or man selfies or, just no dudes) and never looking back.
Want to start getting replies to your Snaps? Well then, America, you’re gonna have to starting brushing up on some of the fundamental rules of Snapchat.
1. Don’t Be Boring
Who are you people?
Snapchat, in many ways, is like channel surfing. Men only need to see something for a brief second before knowing whether it’s attention span worthy or not. Pictures of funny faces over the caption bored, or empty beer cans over the hashtag #rage are so mind-numbing, they could pass for a Glee club teacher’s recreational drug of choice.
This doesn’t just apply to Snapchat, but to life in general. At the end of the day, everyone needs to ask themselves: what do I bring to the table? If it’s nothing more than a shitty impression of Jim Carrey making a goofy face, then you’re just wasting everyone’s time.
2. Weirdtown Needs Its Mayor
I know I’m probably following the cue of anyone who dates Lea Michele and am likewise digging my own grave here, but the most memorable Snapchatters are the ones who go out of their way specifically to violate your eyeballs with Donnie Darko-levels of depravity. From screenshots of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs porn to Canadian flags sticking out of anuses, I’ve seen some things, man. Horrible things. Things that have taught me to never open Snapchat within an hour of eating dinner.
However, there is one thing to be said about these (instantly blocked) monsters: at least they’re original.
On a related note, if you’re a dude and are going to Snapchat a picture of you standing naked, wearing only a Kleenex box with the caption “need a tissue?”, at least send it from an account that, you know, doesn’t have both your first and last name. Fucking doofuses.
3. 10 Seconds Is An Eternity
Vine was a real gamechanger. It made anything that lasts over six seconds feel like an eternity, which has done wonders for my sex life, but has absolutely killed my attention span.
Snapchat allows you to measure how much time elapses before the picture self-detonates. This is nice and all, except the timing mechanism brings out the narcissistic side of people with an inflated sense of self-worth in the worst way.
Here’s the timing guide to Snapchats.
*1-3 seconds: Boring “this is what I’m doing” photos.
*4-6 seconds: Flirtatiously telling someone you’d like to get hopped up and make some bad decisions later.
*7-9 seconds: Something that’s genuinely funny, like a picture of the cast of a hit Fox TV show with a doodle of a ghost where one of the cast members should be.
*10 seconds: Sexts.
Here’s the secret of life, guys: Always leave them asking for more.
4. No One Likes Sluts
Fret not, Sach. Not those type of sluts.
It’s so transparent when someone sends out a mass Snapchat, and honestly, they’re just discouraging. Mass snaps look normal on the surface, but they have no heart, no pulse and no personality. The emptiness of it all leaves you feeling used and dirty, like a needle being passed around by fake high school musical stars. If you’re not sending out each Snapchat individually, then don’t bother.
5. Tits or GTFO
Because at the end of the day, isn’t that what Snapchat is for? It’s a safe, secure, NSA-free way for girls to let that special someone know via sext, “I’m attracted to you, you’re attracted to me, I’m too old to sign up for Tinder, so what the hell are we gonna do about it?”
I’d like to think this intervention helped, America, but at the end of the day, only you can save yourself from ending up keeled over in a Vancouver hotel room with a temporary cure for boredom lushly flowing through your veins. I’ve got all the faith in the world that you can step your Snap game up, but you have to be willing to listen.
Clean it up, America.
Your ole’ pal,