What Writer in Their "Right" Mind ...
What Writer in Their "Right" Mind ...
Hi. My name’s Helena. I’m going on tour with My Chemical Romance because otherwise how the fuck would there be a story in the first place? I mean, what writer in their “right” mind would NOT send some random ass chick on tour with some band that isn’t stupid enough to take some random ass chick on tour with them in the first place?
Totally, right?
And, of course, I have the same name as one of their most popular songs. Because it’s totally not unrealistic that my parents gave me some not-so-popular name that just happens to have the same title as that song. And of course it doesn’t matter that the song is about Gerard and Mikey’s dead grandmother because they all want to fuck the clothes right off of me anyway.
Totally, right?
And, of course, I’m in a band. And there will be paragraphs and paragraphs describing the clothes we wear and how our hair looks that day. Because what writer in their “right” mind would NOT take the time to type out every stupid bullshit mundane detail about my new halter top and miniskirt. I mean, hello people, this is what we all care about right? Who cares about people starving in other countries? I have a new halter top.
Hello?!
But, of course, I’m all for equal rights. Because whatever two members of the band I’m not fucking will end up fucking each other. What do you mean there aren’t only three members of My Chemical Romance? Bob and Ray are just cheerleaders. Duh. Cheerleaders with instruments, but seriously, they’re not important to the story. I mean . . .
DUH!
And, of course, because I’m so totally punk AND hardcore AND emo, I transcend all labels and am immediately liked by anyone and everyone worth liking. But not preps. Fuck those motherfucking bitches and their Abercrombie and Fitch clothes. But I’m not a poser. Totally not. I’m just as punk AND hardcore AND emo as Avril Lavigne. Because she’s totally da bomb, bitch!
Totally, right?
So, of course, on my first day of the tour Gerard immediately falls head over heels in love with me. He buys me a ring and gives me skittles and we go have hot badly written animal sex in his hotel room. Then, of course, first-person magically disappears and you get to see Frank and Mikey having hot badly written animal boy-sexxxxxx in their hotel room.
So totally hot, right?
Then we all have to go to a coffee shop together because Ray and Bob have to practice their cheerleading stuff ALONE and then we all fight over Skittles. Gerard and I get married and we rock out.
The end.
Totally, right?
Totally, right?
And, of course, I have the same name as one of their most popular songs. Because it’s totally not unrealistic that my parents gave me some not-so-popular name that just happens to have the same title as that song. And of course it doesn’t matter that the song is about Gerard and Mikey’s dead grandmother because they all want to fuck the clothes right off of me anyway.
Totally, right?
And, of course, I’m in a band. And there will be paragraphs and paragraphs describing the clothes we wear and how our hair looks that day. Because what writer in their “right” mind would NOT take the time to type out every stupid bullshit mundane detail about my new halter top and miniskirt. I mean, hello people, this is what we all care about right? Who cares about people starving in other countries? I have a new halter top.
Hello?!
But, of course, I’m all for equal rights. Because whatever two members of the band I’m not fucking will end up fucking each other. What do you mean there aren’t only three members of My Chemical Romance? Bob and Ray are just cheerleaders. Duh. Cheerleaders with instruments, but seriously, they’re not important to the story. I mean . . .
DUH!
And, of course, because I’m so totally punk AND hardcore AND emo, I transcend all labels and am immediately liked by anyone and everyone worth liking. But not preps. Fuck those motherfucking bitches and their Abercrombie and Fitch clothes. But I’m not a poser. Totally not. I’m just as punk AND hardcore AND emo as Avril Lavigne. Because she’s totally da bomb, bitch!
Totally, right?
So, of course, on my first day of the tour Gerard immediately falls head over heels in love with me. He buys me a ring and gives me skittles and we go have hot badly written animal sex in his hotel room. Then, of course, first-person magically disappears and you get to see Frank and Mikey having hot badly written animal boy-sexxxxxx in their hotel room.
So totally hot, right?
Then we all have to go to a coffee shop together because Ray and Bob have to practice their cheerleading stuff ALONE and then we all fight over Skittles. Gerard and I get married and we rock out.
The end.
Totally, right?