burrrrrday

Wuddup luvrs, today eet eeeeeez my MOTHA FUCKIN BIRTHDAY! Finally, I am legal biznatches. But really, I don't smoke, I don't really have the urge to go buy porn or sex toys and (sadly, yet truthfully) I am blissfully ignorant when it comes to politics so I'm not exactly itchin to go vote on a levy. (Please, just leave me be for now. I'm sure in like 1 month I'll be completely engrossed in Yale Political Union. Mark my words) So. . .yay?

But anyways, for the reason that it is my birthday, I'm going to talk about how much I love not loving ED HARDY.

You guys, I don't know why Ed Hardy was created. I mean, do we really need something to flash judge guidos and at-risk teen moms by? Like I genuinely feel like if you are a connoisseur of Ed Hardy there's a high chance you also have a tramp stamp/will be pregnant by an unknown baby daddy/have a tanning bed in your basement. Like let's just burn all Ed Hardy items. We'd probably be doing the world some good.

When I look at Ed Hardy I genuinely feel dirty. Like I get the urge to sanitize myself and also sanitize the person wearing the Ed Hardy. Because it is so gross. Why do you want tattoo art when it is not in tattoo form. No. I mean, do you want to be visited by Jesse James (I say this because he cheated on Sandra Bullock with Michelle Bombshell who was like a walking Ed Hardy ad). Do you want to be associated with JON GOSSELIN (I say this because the dude seriously looks like Ed Hardy--who is not real, I know--regurgitated all up on his person)?? I say: HELL TO THE NO!

Ed Hardy is for weenies. That's all.