You Know Why.

Senioritis. Get your shit together Alex. Get your shit together. What am I even doing on this website?!

We just had to read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley for English. For those of you that are not familiar with this story, you might think this hatred I feel toward this seemingly victimized character is a little misdirected.

Shut up. It’s not.

Okay so basically, we’ve got this guy, Victor Frankenstein, who probably looks like Severus Snape from the books.

So this Frankenstein decides to spend two years of his life making a person out of spare human parts because he has somehow discovered how to generate life. Looking past how completely fucked up that little hobby is, Frankenstein wastes away working on this creature. He doesn’t eat or drink or sleep. He just sews body parts together.

When it’s finally time for Frankenstein to bring his pride and joy and life’s work to life, he takes a step back and realizes something.

Frankenstein: Hey, wait a second. Even though I am making you out of dead people, you are somehow not beautiful like a human! I hate you now because you’re ugly!

Long story short, he still brings it to life, lets it loose, then runs away and hides in his room for 6 months. I’m not kidding.

Now this creature has no fucking idea what’s going on because hey, your creator made you and abandoned you and you don’t know how to talk and you don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong because VICTOR DIDN’T FULFILL HIS FATHERLY DUTIES, DAMMIT.

Creature tries to make friends with villagers, but scares the shit out of them instead because he looks like is a walking cadaver. Eventually he learns to speak and think and empathize by taking shelter near a house and watching a family interact. Basically, Creature is pretty fucking bad-ass.

But Creature is run out of town by the family he has become attached to on account of his face and body. But you know what? Creature is mad, god dammit. Frankenstein brought him into existence but then said “Not pretty enough” and then just peaced on out of there.

So Creature kills some people close to Victor because fuck you, Victor. Fuck you.

And so Victor loses his brother and maid and father and best friend to the wrath of Creature, and then he hides in his bed again. But along the way Creature asks Frankenstein to make him a nice Lady Creature to keep him out of trouble and happy. Frankenstein originally says he will make Lady Creature to potentially solve all of the problems, but he gets about halfway through, realizes Lady Creature is also shaping up to be a bit monstrous, and says LOLJK and destroys Creature’s almost-lover.

Not cool, bitch. Not cool.

So a little later, Frankenstein is getting married to his cousin Elizabeth, but on his wedding night he sits on the porch with a gun because, after he destroyed Lady Creature, Creature threatened him with this:

“I’ll be with you on your wedding night.”

I know this can be misconstrued as something sexual, but Creature doesn’t like Victor like that.

So while Victor is covering his own ass with a rifle, Creature comes in the back door and throttles the crap out of Elizabeth. Because it would make sense that Creature would take Victor’s lady away since Victor took Creature’s lady away, right? RIGHT?

Come on, Victor.

Now Frankenstein is fed up with Creature’s shit and he chases him across the Arctic in a dogsled. Creature is also on a dogsled. I don’t know, it gets very Snow-Dog-ish in this part.

Then Frankenstein dies from exposure and Creature confesses that he loved his creator and only wanted peace and they COULD HAVE HAD IT ALL.

But no. Because Victor Frankenstein is a shallow, irresponsible little dick. Way to indirectly kill everyone you love, you bastard.

Victor Frankenstein. Get your shit together, Victor Frankenstein.

This post has been brought to you by the letter p for photos of spring break and the number 0 for amount of common sense used. 

Let’s say that you attend either a. an all girls catholic high school or b. an all boys catholic high school. Let’s say that you are a senior in high school and most definitely have colleges trolling the internet looking for you and if you attend said all girls school you are well aware that the dean has spies on the internet looking for stupidity. Now let’s talk about what has shown up on facebook in the past 24 hours.

Probably no less than half of the senior class all went to the same place for Spring Break. Since there were so many people who are friends in one place, it is logical for numerous parties and good times to occur. I am not Primrose Prohibition. I do not live under a rock. I am not Amish. If you want to get high or wasted by all means go for it. I’ve heard it is good times and will not judge you for it. Unless you do stupid shit like posting evidence of your underage drinking on facebook. That’s dumb.

A good friend of ours has three rules. I have paraphrased them like a boss, but they still make sense.

1. Don’t do stupid shit. 

2. If you do stupid shit, fine, but don’t let yourself be recorded doing stupid shit. 

3. If you do record yourself doing stupid shit, don’t POST yourself doing stupid shit on the internet where it will be there forever.

I will now list some of the photos that I have seen on facebook this afternoon

-coed 17-18 year olds sharing a bedroom 

-beer pong. Not even in red solo cups so you could claim “it was lemonade”. In clear cups. 

-girls holding beer bottles

-girls having some serious wardrobe malfunctions. 

-Crazy obviously drunk teenagers

-people doing shots

Again, I have no problem with people wanting to hardcore party. Go for it. And if you want to have coed sleepovers that is also completely fine. Just don’t be an idiot and post it on facebook. For the love of all that is holy. Also we don’t need to see your underboob. We don’t care. 

Spring Breakers, get your shit together, Spring Breakers. 

Observation: It has come to my attention that the overlap in the Venn Diagram of people who should not be president and people named Rick is ever increasing in size.  

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure that there are some wonderful people in the world who have the name Rick.  Those people, however, have not decided to run for president.

Hypothesis: People named Rick (Richard/variations) should NOT be president. In fact, let’s limit it to Republicans named Rick. But let’s face it, Ricky Gervais and Ricky Ricardo have no business running for president either. 

Let’s take a look at a few examples. If you’re in any way involved in the Republican primaries and/or the US presidential election, you’ve probably seen these faces before:

They don’t look like terribly friendly guys, now do they? Well, surprise, surprise! They’re not the nicest guys on the block! Nor are they the brightest crayons in the box. These guys aren’t even Crayola material; they are the Roseart of people. 

Data:Let’s start with our good friend Mr. Perry! If you haven’t seen his Strong advertisement, I highly recommend it.  It’s a good laugh and fun for the whole family. Here’s a synopsis:

Many thanks go to our friends over at forlackofabettercomic! While I’m not the biggest fan of beating a dead horse, this guy needs serious help. However, I like to imagine his campaign managers were smarter than he. This is how I see things going down:

Rick: Hey guys! I want to be president! I think the best way to approach this is to identify myself as a bigoted, self-righteous, homophobe! (which for some reason isn’t recognized as a real word? maybe because it shouldn’t be a part of the English language? Well played, internet) 

Everyone in his campaign: (aside) Yes! Let’s spend thousands of dollars so we can warn the American population of your asshattery before they put you in office!—I mean of course! Excellent idea, governor. Let’s herp this derp.

Was I looking for an opportunity to use the word asshattery? Perhaps. 

Conclusion part 1: Rick Perry should not be President.

Let’s move on to the young, the Catholic, the Rick Santorum!

Data: Upon hearing that there was a reasonable, conservative Catholic running for president I was happy! I couldn’t wait for him to argue the reasoning behind what the Church teaches, a tolerance and love for others that fosters a healthy and welcoming environment for all.  Let’s see what he believes:

Ricky, oooohhh Ricky.

He’s not the first person I’ve encountered who used the man-on-child argument. And it brings me to violent thoughts involving the speaker and large bricks.Because raping a child and being intimate with someone you love are the same. But wait, aren’t those two diff-NOPE. THE SAME. NO ONE CAN ARGUE WITH ME. BECAUSE OF REASONS.

And that comment about Obama being a snob for wanting people to go to college? I thought he was trolling. NOPE. Just asshattery. How dare he want a better future for the next generation.  He should really think twice about the next time he tries to educate the youth and provide equal opportunity for all. 

Rick Santorum: prejudice, racism, homophobia, ignoramus, and all around ass-hat. 

Conclusion part 2: Rick Santorum is an ass-hat and should not be president.

And just in case you weren’t convinced, let’s check out this blast from the past:

Data: That’s right! The one, the only, Richard “Not a Crook” Nixon (former Republican president) was named RICHARD. And was most certainly a crook. More than half the country thought he would be a fit leader for this country. Well herpin derp we all know how well that turned out.

Conclusion part 3: It was a bad plan back then too!

As at this point as I’m getting tired, I will revert to a pre-existing analogy.  These people are the Rosearts of the world. Their presidencies combined would be as effective as trying to draw with a fucking candle! 

CONCLUSION: PEOPLE NAMED RICK SHOULD NOT BE PRESIDENT.

People named Rick, get your shit together, people named Rick.

That is it. I have had enough. I can not take anymore. I have been on the edge for a while it. Some may say over it, dangling from a tree branch, similar to cliff hanger. 

(If you don’t know where I got this image, your childhood was sad. Between the Lions. Good stuff. Actually I hated that show.) REGARDLESS.

Homes are supposed to be a safe place to go. You have an incredibly crappy day the first thing you want to do is go faceplant into your bed, right? Or just in general be home? 

Don’t I wish that was the case. You see my house isn’t safe. 

Why isn’t it safe? 

Because at any time around my house the unsuspecting roamer’s senses could be assaulted by something horrible, something terrible, something scarring. 

It isn’t a messy room— though we have plenty. It isn’t a vicious beast—Daisy our dog is more of a priss. It is something much worse.

Not rats. Not bugs. Not shag carpeting. Not weird smells. 

A naked sister. 

A naked fifteen year old sister. 

A sister who is fifteen years old and walks around in the nude. 

No clothes. No towel. No robe. No warning. 

What did I do to deserve this? Why isn’t my living room the safe place it should be? 

Even my room is unsafe. You see, Naked Sister doesn’t believe in knocking. She just kinda bursts in to places. Which is bad enough when you aren’t expecting her but fifty million times worse when she is naked. 

The horror I was just witness to was her sitting crosslegged on the couch laptop in lap. No clothes. 

How does she expect to function in life? Just because you are a size -4 does NOT mean you get to prance in the nude. If I wanted to see that, I could look down. But the fact is that I don’t. I don’t like my homework with a side of androgynous naked body, believe it or not.

This also applies to when I go to the Y and work out. (WHAT? YOU WORK OUT? Shh. I’ve done before. I can do it again.) Yes, locker rooms are separated by gender for modesty purposes so you can feel secure in not letting people oogle you. But guess what? FEELING SECURE DOES NOT MEAN I NEED TO SEE EVERYTHING. ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE ABOVE THE AGE OF 60 AND OVER 300 POUNDS. DO. NOT. WANT.

I mean hey it is okay to like being naked. Personally I am more of a fan of wearing clothes but whatever floats your boat. There is, however, a time and place for nudity. Around your house when there are others home and when your back wall is made almost entirely of glass is not one of those places. Public locker rooms are also not one of those places. Nudist colonies ARE one of those places. Go there. Or your own room. Please. 

So to my seemingly in a permanent state of nude sister and to those who want to share everything with the world:

Naked people, Get your shit together, Naked people. 

I’m going to preface this post by saying, a little bit shamefacedly, that I actually like superwhitegirlproblems, and this is no way meant to bash it. 

For those of you who have never seen Super White Girl Problems, there you go. Now, in this blogs defense, it does say at the top: “our blog is not meant to be taken seriously (maybe in a few posts),” and thank God for that. Otherwise, I would be really concerned for the general state of society. 

This blog is obviously catered to upper-middle class teenage girls, so I accept that we are (generally speaking) seen as a shallow demographic. But what really frightens me is that this blog is written about upper-middle class teenage girls BY upper-middle class teenage girls. If this is really what you want society to think is on your mind, we have serious problems, ladies. 

I’m just going to briefly discuss some of the posts that really just…concerned me. 

1.
 
 Let us just disregard the second half of that sentence and focus on the beginning. “Being mad at your mom when she cleans your room.” How about no? I’m going to operate under the assumption that whoever wrote this is between the ages of 13 and 18, therefore, you are more than fucking capable of picking up after yourself. Or don’t. I don’t care. But the idea that you are actually going to complain about your mother picking up after you is just sad. You better buy that woman some flowers or something because she should not be responsible for your crap. 

2. 

All I have to say about this is: you can. You can help it. And if you actually can’t that is a problem that you should address with a medical professional. And just to emphasize how much you should try to help it (even if you wrongly believe you can’t): 

This is not cute. It has never been cute. It will never be cute. 

3. 

I think, just as a general rule, if you have to tell people you’re too cool for something, you definitely aren’t. To me, “I deleted my Facebook because I’m too cool for it” translates to “I deleted my Facebook because I’m a douchebag who wasn’t receiving the attention on my Facebook that my inflated ego has led me to believe I deserve.” 

4. 

This is not a “Super White Girl Problem.” This is a common courtesy that should be observed by all people. I’m going to say that 60% of the time, when you ask someone “what are you up to?” or some variation thereof over text, the response is probably a lie. I mean, I’ll be honest, I spend a lot of time at my house on my couch with my dog, watching TLC and eating Girl Scout cookies directly from the box…but if somebody texted me while in the midst of all that productivity and asked “Hey, what’s up?” my response would most certainly not be “Just wasting my life away and consuming meaningless calories while watching My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, you?” No. I’m going to say “Oh, nothing much.” Why? Because I’m not a moron. Therefore, if I were texting while on the toilet (no judgment for people who do that. Multitasking is effective), I’m certainly not going to tell you “Oh, just pooping.” And not because I’m a Super White Girl with Problems, but because I’m a human being who functions normally in social situations.  

Lastly: 

Oh God. You hate something and you don’t have to do it. How do you even function? I can’t imagine the trial that is your - NO. 

This is not a problem. Please go find a dictionary and look up problem. It would be a problem if this guy 

was pointing that gun at your head while forcing you to wear sweatpants, which you loathe.
Until that time, you don’t have problems. Except for the fact that hating sweatpants makes you an alien. 

Get your shit together, Super White Girl Problems.  

I don’t understand how people can still like Chris Brown. It just…baffles me. And I’ve heard a number of shitty defensive arguments from his fans, such as:

1. He shouldn’t be judged for something that happened so long ago.

Yeah, and we should all leave Phil Spector alone for being a killer of women. While we’re at it, let’s give Michael Vick some kind of recognition for being a decent football player. He deserves some accolades, am I right? No. He still did it, and he still deserves the notoriety. He doesn’t deserve to be idolized. He’s done some pretty bad things, and we can’t just forget about that.

And now, he has a Grammy. Fan-fucking-tastic.

2. I love him for his music, not his personal life.

I respect leaving a celebrity’s personal life out of the mix when you’re admiring their work. But that’s for when your favorite musician has some kind of strange fetish, or when your favorite actor gives dumb relationship advice. But there are certain things that shouldn’t be overlooked such as, I don’t know, BEATING YOUR GIRLFRIEND AND THREATENING TO KILL HER.

3. He apologized and got help.

Well isn’t that nice! Since we’re all clearly five years old and Chris Brown stole our blocks, he was able to apologize and make it all better.

You can’t just say you’re sorry and erase the stigma. Saying you’re sorry is all fine and dandy, Chris, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are a violent son of a bitch who does not deserve the fame you managed to gain back, by the grace of God or debilitating idiocy, since you beat the shit out of a woman. 

But the worst is probably the fact that some of his fans say things like this:

Are you fucking kidding me?

Just…how can people think like that? What kind of person would willingly take a beating from a man because he is “fine”? And he’s not, by the way. At least I think he looks like a goddamn moron.

People need to get their heads out of their asses and stop defending this arrogant lowlife because he is a decent dancer and a mediocre singer. Why don’t you start looking up to people who are actually trying to do good, or inspire people, or create beautiful things, and are living their lives in an honorable way.

Chris Brown fans. Get your shit together, Chris Brown fans.

 So as you have probably already heard, the contributors of this blog attend an all girls school. This niche comes with many things: many baked goods, lack of qualms about menstrual cycles, and an inordinate amount of raging feminism. I will repeat, an inordinate amount of feminism. Any mention of gender discrimination leads to shouting and general hysteria among the crowd. In such a “progressive” environment, one would hope that stereotypes of women would perish in the face of true, unfettered womanhood. AND YET, in government class while discussing the issues of gender equality in the draft one student decided that “women aren’t good fighters” and that “we would all cry for our moms and get shot”. Giving her the benefit of the doubt I asked “You’re joking, right?” to which I got a snarky no. This is the moment where I was about to punch some bitches in the face. This student continued to present “evidence” that women aren’t as strong as men, adding women to the military would make it worse, and it was generally a bad idea. Some people even agreed with her.

Now, I don’t want to go to war. I don’t want to be drafted. Despite the previous comment about punching people in the face, I am generally a pacifist. But if we want gender equality, we have to take the whole cake. I would also like to say that despite this lengthily rant, I usually don’t like listening to feminists bitch about the plight of women. At an all girl school that gets shoved down your throat quite a bit and I’m sick of it. But today, I am a member of those crazy feminists, not against the actions of men, but against the ridiculous stereotyping made by women themselves. We are finally getting to the point in history where women are on the same plane as men and then these bitches parade around deciding that they are inferior to men, thereby continuing the stereotypes that people have worked to prevent for centuries.

So, to the student who thinks any woman who got drafted would curl up in the fetal position and cry while the big men saved the world, I say fuck you. Fuck your stupidity and all that it has done, does, or will do to the world. You are the worst and I hope that at our 20 year reunion I find out that you are a trophy wife whose secret stash of Valium and vodka are the only things that keep you sane. Hey, you’ll be stuck in the same sad paradigm as the 50s wife, but at least you won’t have to go to war.