watching all this therapy and relationship recovery has made me super annoyed because there aren't enough recovery programs in this world and we need to make a change. there are serious issues out there that are not being addressed and once again it's morgan to the rescue, shedding light on controversial matters. i guess it's my cross to bear. if this were a utopian society none of these issues would be at hand. but it's not. it's 2012 and we're all mediocre. so that being said, i'm offering some services to help people recover from their problems.
over tweezing: if you've let your eyebrows get so thin that it looks like there are tadpoles living above your eyes, it's time for an intervention.
a harsh reality check. you will be forced to quit any sort of tweezing or waxing regime cold turkey. i can assure you this will be extremely beneficial and bring you more happiness than you could ever dream possible.
weddings that look like pinterest threw up on them: if people ask you what your plans are for your upcoming wedding and your response is similar to: "EVERYTHING IS ORIGINAL/VINTAGE/HANDMADE/QUIRKY/ BECAUSE THAT'S HOW MY PERSONALITY IS! PLUS PEOPLE LOVE DRINKING FROM MASON JARS WHILE WEARING FAKE MUSTACHES!" it's time for an intervention.
deactivation of any and all pinterest accounts. we will then sit you in front of a screen where we will proceed to treat you with shock therapy. you will be exposed to hundreds upon hundreds of wedding pictures that look exactly the same. if you ever feel the urge to repin an image, you will be electrocuted (we can't afford a machine that does that so really it's just gonna be one of the interns sitting on the floor, pinching your leg. tomato tomahto).
ugg boots: if you have terrible style/still think it's 2001, you need an intervention.
burn those suckers or we will be forced to amputate your feet.
seeking validation through daily outfit posts or "ootd": we get it fashion gurlz, we get it. if your instagram profile looks any thing like this, you need an intervention.
go live in a third world country for a year. nobody's gonna care where you bought your skirt.
talking about your boyfriend/fiancee/husband/significant other and then posting pictures of them and all the romantic things they do: this is rude. just stop. you need an intervention.
i will send you this picture every single day with the caption "look at all of the sweet presents my non existent husband didn't buy me!"
this will send you on a guilt trip and force you to realize that maybe if you didn't run that ragnar with your gal pals and dropped 20 lbs, you'd still be fat and single like the rest of us, going on dates with netflix every weekend.
k i have to finish watching my marathon now. courtney's therapist just implemented a dress code! bye