|Henry LOVES my pussy.|
That one was too easy.
You know you are the Crazy Girl
You know your pants are on fire
You're in heat
You feel like you're just a little higher
My target is your eyes
Your body has been given up
To any young man who can afford to pay
But your eyes have never seen the view
Of the virgin tears you'll cry today
And you know you are troubled
I'd like to make you let me heal you
A scream for every virgin tear
My target is... your... eyes
~ Black Flag
Something kinda bizarre has happened, a strange 'compliment' (?!) that has been tossed my way twice in the past week or so.
I’ve heard it before, usually when I’m onstage, or doing a stag.
But I guess I’ve always kinda thought that in those particular contexts, this certain comment was...well, not welcome, or appropriate, per se, but...just...easier to write off, I guess? Just some of the stupid shit that people say, when they’re drinking and having fun, and open their mouths and speak before they really consider their words.
But out in the broad daylight? When we’re all (one would assume) sober? And twice, in one week or so? I detect a pattern, and I don't like it.
I was at the gym today, singing along loudly and obnoxiously to Dead Kennedy's Police Truck, as I wandered around, picking heavy things up and putting them back down again. Very satisfying, I kept telling myself, as I pumped up the volume on Mr. Reznor (my iPod) and pretended I wasn't bored out of my skull at my favorite gym.
I came back to this gym about a month ago, and though every gym is boring, really, my experience back at Richmond thus far has been interesting, to say the least.
It’s so weird to clock some little differences in myself.
Like, when I’m onstage at the strip club, and I walk by you in my stilettos? You SURE as SHIT BETTER BE LOOKING AT ME. No, you don’t talk to your friend, no, you don’t sip your fucking drink, YOU look at ME, or I will leap off this stage, insert my stiletto into your ear canal and MAKE YOU LOOK AT ME.
My vagina and I would like some attention, please. You know, if you don't mind. Seeing as we're all here.
I’ve noticed over the past couple of weeks in the gym, though, that out in the real world, I am the exact opposite. As I wander through the gym on my way the WOMEN'S ONLY area (LAME), my only cringing thought is “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!?!?! STOP LOOKING AT ME!!!!!”
I’m just never fucking happy, am I? Heh heh.
Anyway, I was at the gym today, filling up my water bottle with my earbuds in my ears. I noticed someone to my left was talking right at me, so I turned and faced the big muscley guy that was smiling at me and yammering away.
“Sorry?” I said, and pulled one of my earbuds out.
“I said you look like a Goth Barbie,” he grinned.
“Huh,” I said, putting the lid on my water bottle. “That’s funny, cuz I’m actually looking for a husband to speak and think for me!” And I tittered into my hand, like a Japanese schoolgirl.
“Oh yeah?” he laughed.
“NO,” I said, and walked away.
Now, then. NOW, THEN. I know this was unnecessarily cruel, and I admit to feeling guilty about it afterwards. I should have just said that I have a boyfriend, and left it at that.
But why would someone say that to someone else? And why does everyone keep saying that to ME? Is it meant to be a compliment?
One of the other volunteers at Camp Horizon last week told me that I look like an ‘Angry Barbie’. DA FUCK?
What I hear is that I am either pretty but incredibly stupid, or that I am plastic, fake, empty-headed, and will shut the fuck up and do as I’m told.
I do not like either of these assumptions. I find them rude. Ergo, I am rude in return, even though I suffer cringing pangs of guilt for being mean afterwards.
But maybe that’s just me, taking a 'compliment' the wrong way CUZ I AM AN ANGRY FUCKING BARBIE.
|Does this look angry to you?|
WELL? DOES IT, ASSHOLE?!?!?!?!?!?!