There is one known 8th wonder of the world: Netflix.
Most of us have it, and it serves as a shiny barrier between humans and progress. There are no better faces to explain our undying devotion to our time with Netflix as the lovely ladies of Disney. Here they are:
Saturday Nights = Netflix. No questions.Your friends slowly begin to wonder to what planet you wandered off to. Your pretty late-night dresses are hanging in the closet and that bottle of wine is specifically for you to drink (happily) alone with your couch, your blanket and Gossip Girl. The comfort of your home is no longer enjoyed alone, but with the familiar faces on the big screen.
Period Week = Netflix. Blankets, pillows, couch, ice-cream, Netflix. In no particular order. That special someone in your life is forced to steer clear of his typical googley-eyed gawking and remove himself to a darker place while you pat the space beside you and tearfully whimper: “Just sit here with me.”
Social Situations = Netflix.You have lost all ability to think and function like a noraml human being. You begin to narrate your life and see your actions as they would be viewed from a camera angle. So long, normality. My brain is a beautiful, Netflixy-pile of putty.
Sunny Days = Netflix.And you wonder why your skin is the color of your refridgerator (unless you have a stainless-steel fridge, in which case you would need medical attention ASAP). You lazily look out the window and think about…about watching more…more Netflix…more food…
Nights Out = Netflix.Don’t you even try and kid yourself. You have a secret sitcom/drama idol and you will do anything to beautify yourself to their level of airbrushed perfection.