Roaming the cobblestones of the Magic Kingdom, I noticed a lot of princesses. Too many fucking princesses. Everywhere I turned, there were little girls stumbling around in tiara and taffeta, asking completely uninterested strangers (i.e, me) if they thought she looked pretty. For the record, I told her no. I told her she looked the right prat and that Betty Freidan would rise from her grave on Halloween and kick her simple, six year old ass.
If I ran Nudey Judy into my boss' office, threw a 36B in his face and offered to suck his gnarled dick in exchange for a promotion, I couldn't do much more damage than Cinderella. Little girls of the world, listen up. Being a princess is not, nor ever will be, a valid occupation. Become a princess and you will invariably end up in the clutches of wicked witch or, worse, stuck with some brainless prince who thinks the most effective way to rescue you from a tower is to climb up your weave. Don't wait for Prince Charming to rescue you with his romantic gestures. Fuck romantic gestures. Buy you some "C" batteries and rescue your damned self.
2 comments:
AMEN!!! You rock, and may I say, I love your acerbic wit. Have a great week!
Errrr, well now. This here's an interesting blog Chuckie-girl. Ummm, it's a side of you that ya keep well hidden but for what it's worth, you are certainly Fantastika! Who knew? Well, beyond the phone conversations anyway.
I'll be trying to keep up with your writings in the near future....in the meantime, I loved Down Home and sent the tiny lights web site to my sister.
Screen play winner? 9th place? You never mentioned! When do we get to SEE your work?
Off to bed. Bringing one of your pages with me for nighttime reading as I suspect I will with many more.
So long Chuckie-girl.
Miss you ~ me
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