I was bullied in high school. I hear ya—who wasn’t? In my personal experience, I’ve learned that the tiny percentage of people who say they weren’t bullied in high school had either mastered the art of invisibly, were blessed by the divine hand of God or were such a big bully themselves that no one dared bully them back.
Years will pass—centuries even. The sheer volume of videos I’ve produced will flabbergast my descendents in the distant future. In the videos, I will say things like, “In my day, we listened to music on matchbox-sized devices we kept in our pockets. We didn’t have microchips implanted in our brains that spontaneously generated the most neurologically stimulating music for that precise moment.”
As a woman, there is nothing I resent more than being called “crazy.” The “slutty” card holds a close second due to obvious double standards, but to be deemed crazy connotes a sense of manic desperation that doesn’t look good on anyone and I HATE IT.
I was ready to hate Season 4 until the whole thing managed to turn around in the last 5 minutes of the final episode. An epic end to a “meh” season, the finale managed to almost completely erase all my feelings of “I’m not coming back for Season 5.” Now I’m all like “EFF YEAH SEASON 5. BRING IT, BEE-ATCH!”
Okay, I love getting drunk with someone I’m dating, especially if it’s at a house party or something. You can go and be your social drunk self, all while knowing that you have someone to go home with at the end of the night. There’s no pressure!