Congratulations to the 2018 nominees, many of whom cut their comedy teeth at The Second City.
If you are a millennial who got Facebook after Myspace went the way of Ask Jeeves, you might remember Honesty Box.
Honesty Box was an application one could attach to their Facebook in the early 2000s. People could submit personalized questions in complete anonymity. Giving pubescents a place where they could say things to one another without fear of repercussions went exactly how any reasonable adult would expect, but much like other trends that should have stayed dead (including shoulder pads, chokers and marrying in your early 20s) Honesty Box was recently brought back to life in the form of Sarahah.
Sarahah’s website says that this thing exists in order to provide a platform to “get honest feedback from your coworkers and friends.” But who will be giving you this anonymous dose of reality? To save your time, we’ll tell you.
“You occasionally come off as a little shrill.”
-Your former boss who never makes this comment to male employees
“Suck my dick.”
-The guy from your improv class who still thinks dicks are the highest form of comedy
“You were a bitch then, and you’re probably a bitch now.”
-Your best frenemy from middle school
-Some random who doesn’t understand that, even if you wanted to, which you don’t, it’s anonymous, so you wouldn’t know who to send them to
“What was your opinion about Rachel’s pick on ‘The Bachelorette’?”
-One of your Bachelor Nation viewing party friends (Note: I think she should have gone with Eric, because he was the one who would have really given her the life that she wanted so desperately. He had the soulfulness of Peter and the willing-to-proposeness of Bryan. But I think we all need to respect her ultimate choice and let them have a chance at love, okay???)
“Leave another K-cup in the Keurig, and I’ll blow our whole office to hell.”
-Your current boss who doesn’t know you don’t drink coffee and should probably have sent this to Charlie-in-accounts-payable’s Sarahah
“I have been stealing bits of your hair while you sleep to make clones of you.”
You will never find out who said this
“I hate you and you aren’t funny.”
The little voice in your head that makes Sarahah totally unnecessary
Alexandra Shields received her B.A. in theater with a concentration in playwriting and theater for young audiences. Upon graduation, her play, Dog Eat Dog was selected for the Graduate Playwriting Showcase. Post Northwestern, Alexandra graduated from the Second City Writing Program. Her sketches have since been featured in The Mary Scruggs Festival and Secrets and Lies. Her plays have been featured at 13th Street Repertory Company, American Theater Company’s Bridge Program. Alexandra has also had articles published by Cracked.com.