It’s finally gone too far. I’m usually hesitant to speak out about things that don’t directly influence me, but after hearing the phrase “skibidi sigma” in Paresky Commons for the seventh time today, I decided that I need to take action. What is with all of these weirdos? They speak in some foreign language that nobody over the age of 20 can interpret. I’m all for fun and games, but if another pimply forehead, thick glasses, brace-faced kid, sticks a phone into my face and asks me, “Do you think baby gronk or big justice is the true rizz king?” I will lose it. And don’t even get me started on the tiktok rizz party. Can someone finally tell me who turkish quandale dingle is? Is that a name I might encounter if I travel outside the pearly city-limits of Andover? I just can’t stand it. What happened to real humor? Kids’ brains are actively rotting by doom-scrolling TikTok and being fed catch-phrases like, “Boy, it’s just alkahawlll” and, “Only in Ohio.” None of this will ever make sense to me. It has gotten to the point where well… if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. I’m on my 37th consecutive day of my edging streak, and I’ve been mewing so much I think I might be able to rizz up a level 10 gyatt at the Andover rizz party, also known as a graduation ceremony or something. After Andover, I plan on attending school down in Ohio, with hopes that I might be crowned the new king of rizz after a 1 vs. 1 mogging battle with big justice. Let’s face it, this is the way the world is trending, so you might wanna get a headstart on your edging streak, or you’ll be left behind (Without Livvy Dunne).
