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Click here to meet THE GREAT DESTROYER OF WORLDS. No, but really. He wants to talk to you!
SUBMIT TO THE DARK LORD.
With one easy payment of 1 million trillion your couch goes to college dollars.
Please send to the moon or my Jeep or my dog.
You are wrong. They have come here to tell you this. The way you look — that is the first clue. You are different — they can tell. Then it is the way you shape your face, eyes tightening as they approach, a locking down of your lips as you make the decision to either shut them out or snarl back at them — as they tell you that you are wrong. Your hair is funny. Your lips and nose the wrong shape. Your cheekbones — those are good, take note and listen, they value high cheekbones. But everything else needs work. Those thighs … they are wrong. And if you open your mouth to tell them otherwise — no, nope, don’t you dare. Your opinions are wrong. And worse, they are hurtful! They cause guilt! Your insides are as wrong as the outside, your opinions, your thoughts — they are too strong, too angry, too hateful! Too dark! Too brown.
"When I started making those weird voices, a lot of people told me how whack it was — ‘what the fuck are you doing?’ they’d say. ‘Why do you sound like that? That doesn’t sound sexy to me.’ And then I started saying, Oh, that’s not sexy to you? Good. I’m going to do it more. Maybe I don’t want to be sexy for you today."
"It’s the curse of the teenage girl, isn’t it? Ridiculed at every corner. God forbid a teenage girl could have a passion for anything. God forbid a teenage girl could know what she wants. It’s a fucking curse. You fall in love, it’s bullshit. You’re talented, it’s bullshit. You love something, bullshit. You care about something, bullshit. You destroy something, bullshit. Something kills you, bullshit! We’re all so trivial. Nothing we say has any weight, any precedence. Because we don’t know shit. What do we like? Who cares. What do we love? Who fucking cares. We hate ourselves and we’re called dramatic and self-obsessed. We love ourselves and we’re called dramatic and self-obsessed. Since when was loving yourself a character flaw? Fuck. I think it’s astounding. Why wouldn’t you want to raise a generation of strong, proud girls? I know why, because you’re fucking scared, and you don’t even realize it. Somewhere, in the back of your head, past all the patriarchal bullshit, you know what we’re capable of. And don’t look at me like that, I know what the patriarchy is, and that’s exactly my fucking point. You underestimate us, you reduce us down to silly little girls."
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