...because Really, Sometimes The Irony Gods Just

I've Never Done Acid, Finding It Hard To Go Willingly To A Place That Could Be Frightening, Hellish, And Totally Beyond My Control. A Place Much Like High School.

I Had A Friend Who Said, "you Don't Have An Internal Critic. You Have An Internal Sadist."

She Was Tired Of Being Told How It Was By This Generation, Who’d Botched Things So Badly. They’d Sold Their Children A Pack Of Lies: God And Country. Love Your Parents. All Is Fair. And Then They’d Sent Those Boys, Her Brother, Off To Fight A Great Monster Of A War That Maimed And Killed And Destroyed Whatever Was Inside Them. Still They Lied, Expecting Her To Mouth The Words And Play Along. Well, She Wouldn’t. She Knew Now That The World Was A Long Way From Fair. She Knew The Monsters Were Real.

It Isn't That We Do What We Want. It's That We're Allowed To Want At All.

Taylor Clapped Three Times For Attention. "ladies! Ladies! My Stars! That's Enough. Now. We All Know Miss Arkansas's Girls Are Fake, Miss Ohio's Easier Than Making Cereal, And Miss Montana's Dress Is Something My Blind Meemaw Would Wear To Bingo Night." - "beauty Queens