this being called a whore thing is pretty funny to me.
it reminds me of my first dance recital, when i was in grade four. we were lining up for the finale where we all get on stage in our 100 dollar ugmo spandex sequined costumes a la jon benet ramsey complete with whore make-up and hairsprayed hairdos, anyway like i said i was in grade four.
my jazz class/dance theme was TURKEY IN THE STRAW and our routine was danced to the song by the same name sung by sharon lois and bram (to you americans these people for some reason are really into hanging out with kids and forcing them into random bursts of communal singing, usually about bicycle streamers and garage sales and science projects and turkeys in straws, apparently) and of all the different classes/routines, ours had the ugliest fucking outfits that were the most unslutty, i will dig you up a photo one day, and because of this i felt slighted, all the other girls were wearing one-piece leotards and bikini type things with shortie shorts and we were wearing crappy blue overalls made from a table cloth and red/white checked shirts with red sequins around the collar and red ribbons in our pigtails.
capital GAY.
there was one particular group who were THE BARBIES, their theme was THE BARBIES and they were dressed as barbies, wearing exercise garbage circa 80s wtf?
anyway i was by myself standing behind them and i’m kind of in a daze cos that afternoon after the first performance during the lunch break between the second show, i was busting out some moves at a pub with my friend and my fist came into contact with a waitress and her overstacked tray and sent shit flying EVERYWHERE (in hindsight it is funny cos i drink at this bar now and fil worked there in 1998) so yeah i’m bumming from that and i’m all by myself cos a lot of dancers fuck off with their families and skip the finale so i’m stage right listening to these barbie girls shit-talk some other girl in their class. they are the same age as me and they declare that this one girl who had kissed 2 boys was a HOOKER and then the girl they were s-talking joins them and they gush all over her.
the “hooker” looked pretty innocent to me and was ten times prettier than the girls shit-bagging her and right then and there i realised that i will never be for real friends with girls and if i do i will never fucking trust them.
for the most part the bitches ignored me cos 1. i was dressed like a pile of white trash and 2. i was basically comatose standing up, leaning against the wall and picking at it (this community centre had this really weird wall material that if you pull off one weavy part you can pull out huge portions of it in one go and everyone fucking did it, it was the best). so these girls didn’t realise i had heard everything they said about the “hooker” girl and when we were called to hit the stage they looked back at me and it dawned on them that i knew, and they KNEW that i knew everything they said.
i raised my eyebrows and pursed my lips in a smug way and didn’t say anything.
i never forgot that moment when out of the one girl’s mouth she declared her friend was a hooker and i wanted to say you know, a hooker has sex for money and i highly doubt that your 9 year old friend does that, but i didn’t i was too dumbfounded by the audacity of this bitch’s conclusion and jealousy.
tune in tomorrow for when i go into long boring detail about how fil DOES NOT support me and i reference everyime i have already addressed this fact before I SWEAR I WANT TO KILL YOU FUCKERS YOU MAKE ME MENTAL.
