Labor Day weekend is a holiday but not an important one to have plans for. Instead of doing stuff, how about fill a bowl with strawberries and milk and get a spoon and a book and walk that mess over to a park and lay down on the starched grass?
America isn’t so white. But because the collective consciousness moves as fast and elegantly as you do jogging in a hot tub following diazepam and margaritas, whiteness remains understood as this abstract, almost-imaginary but deeply embedded dominant...
It’s the duty of youth to challenge corruption, said our bleach-blond man in the striped sweater, and it is, and not acknowledging the full, filthy thrust of the corruption of Girl Nation by internal and external forces because it’s nicer to just not...
And why isn’t a fun thing to do getting every dog you know together and putting treats all on your arms so you can have an actual puppy party where you’re just like huggin’ and huggin’ and huggin’ them? Why is it more fun to buy stale beer instead? See...
Adulthood is just making a Pinterest out of what you liked when you were 15, basically.
Girls' Guide to Etiquette, or, Shut Your Cock-Pocket and Listen to Me You Heinous Miniature Hellmouth-Dwelling Beasts PS I Love You
Do I have your attention, bitches?
Fucking off is an important and complicated part of life. Don't fuck it up.
I recommend singing the “at you BAYYYYYbee” part of Girl Nation’s current national anthem if you get bummed out a little bit while we’re doing this.
It's a good idea to not do anything with anyone for any reason sometimes. Just bop around and take every moment really seriously, like “What do I think of the colorway in this ad?"
I don’t have a thesis about why this is, but I do know that a lot of bad shit can be avoided if you keep fifty bucks in your shoe and Plan B and Gravol in your underwear drawer.
Not the fucking The Rules. Just, “the rules.” The rules of girls.