Q from the religious right: How could you possibly say that this holiday is the most wonderful time of the year when it's only celebrating paganism and promotion of occult groups and witchcraft?!
A from Cady Heron: Halloween is the only time when girls can dress like total sluts and no one can say anything.
And that's special you guys. I wouldn't call myself a slut, but I love creative Halloween costumes, and if they just happen to be a little more provocative than my typical outfits, sorry not sorry that I'm not willing to accept limitations on my creative license. AMIRITE?!?!?
My Halloween costume planning starts on November 1st the day after Halloween and just gains momentum as the year goes on. So imagine my absolute HORROR when I see that the weather report is this:
Like seriously weather? You're going to ruin my potentially LIFE CHANGING experience as sexy Statue of Liberty by delivering a SNOWSTORM IN OCTOBER? I'm told that this thing is called a "Nor'easter" too. Sounds dumb. I'm sure the religious right doesn't approve of the name either because it basically denies Easter.
Anyways, Octsnowber (isn't that so cute?!!) did hit this morning, and this is what outside looks like:
photo cred chris tokita |
And then I see these comments
And then I have split emotions. Because a part of me is like "LOL, deez betches stupid as hell!!!" Because like, "BEAUTIEST MAN IN THE WORLD" ? Artists not caring about making Christmas songs? Soooo dumb! And then another part of me is like about to write "OMG THIS SONG IS THE BEAUTIEST BESTY SONG EVERRR , THUMBS UP IF YOU AGREE AND YOU DON'T CARE THAT HE RELEASED THIS IN OCTOBER. BECAUSE AT LEAST HE CARES ABOUT MAKING CHRISTMAS SONGS."
Also, let's just pause for a moment and reflect on Justin's fingerless gloves here.
Anyways, while I am reflecting on this, my other peers at Yale are thinking about other things, as is evidenced by this:
photo cred Enrico Ferro |
Yeah, that's a benzene ring with 5 methyl groups attached drawn in the snow using foot prints. I hate people. This is the February frost that kills my sprouting tulip.
Goodbye.
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