3. Be famous.
“It’s gonna be okay.” Oh, is it? Is it, future wizard? Of course you can say it’s okay, you’re not the one sobbing in a bar singing “Drops of Jupiter” at karaoke night, are you?
This baby was so hot that even David Bowie wanted him. If David Bowie wants to kidnap you, say yes. Parents need to educate their children on the dangers of being kinapped by anyone but David Bowie.
White hair, cigar, bow tie AND brandy snifter? It’s like I’ve died and gone to where this guy lives!
You don’t give a monkey what people think about your tastes. You have no idea what the hot new bands are and you just don’t care.
That cape! That staff! That lipstick! Those horns! That dragon transformation! What kind of game are you playing, Millificent? You’re like the Lady Gaga of the Disney world.
Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Also, why? I don’t understand. Everywhere I go on Instagram, feet. That shot, of you, clearly point the camera down, at your feet. You in oxfords. You in flats. You barefoot. You on pavement. You on grass. You on carpet. Why?