Megan Kirby: For our birthday, we should do a Behind the Scenes of our least-favorite posts. Like BYF Founders Remember Their Low Points.
Hale Goetz: I would have to say, like, we hit a certain point where everything was good.
MK: Oh my god.
HG: But there was a time when I was trying too hard. Like, you have to let it come naturally.
MK: My personal worst is that dumb soda post.
HG: I don't know, mine is like... Just so much. I should have never done the horror thing. There's too much to say, it's too intellectual. You have to cut it down to the dumbest thing possible.
MK: I think it's cool that we found a distinct voice, and that voice is just garbage.
HG: For our anniversorry, we should just delete the blog so people don't have to read another stupid fucking post by us.
MK: Oh my god. A gift unto the world.
My worst post is this one about Sierra Mist’s rebranding to MIST TWST. The joke is that I took the vowels out of other soda names. It took me maybe 5 minutes to write.
The behind-the-scenes story is that one day, we got free sodas in my office. Working in higher ed comes with very few day-to-day perks. The sodas were a big deal. They were left over from a cabinet meeting, and you better believe we drained those suckers down. I grabbed a good ol’ lemon lime and was SHOCKED at the label. “DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?” I asked my coworkers. “DID YOU KNOW?”
If given a second chance, would I write this post again? Yes.
It’s hard to say which one of these three of the “All of the Horror Movies on Netflix” posts is the worst, but I guess I’ll say the first because it began something I should have never tried to do. Back when Megan and I started this blog, we thought, hello, yes, shouldn’t we write two posts a week?
The answer is a solid no. No! What lofty goals for two lofty bitches. Nowadays, we barely can do one a week. But I figured I was watching horror movies anyway, so wouldn’t this be easy? No!! It was a fucking nightmare! Don’t ever try to push yourself or have any sort of dreams because you’ll fail.
Rereading this post is like, Jesus Christ, I seriously, really used to care about things. Now all I do is watch Gossip Girl and go on social media hiatuses because my tiny, peanut brain can’t handle any sort of stimulation. I don’t want to read anyone’s hot takes because my life is lukewarm at best; all I want to do is eat Aldi pretzels and listen to Dan Humphrey talk about his shitty fiction piece getting published in The New Yorker at the age of seventeen.