Hi there. How's everything going? Me? Oh, I'm FINE. Everything's peachy! Hey, by the way, you know what I just found out? You were an idiot. In fact, you ARE an idiot.
Why, you ask? Well, you goddamn know why. You did it on purpose didn't you? It does make you feel important, doesn't it? Being an ass. Being arrogant and standing tall. Being all smug in your high horse of cruelty. It makes you feel superior. I know all about it. How good it feels, knowing that you are hurting others. You think you are winning now.
I know all about it. I can be an idiot too, you know? In fact, I was one. Actually, I AM one. I get a thrill out of making others feel like shit. Stepping on top of them does get me taller. In fact, if I could, I would put my feet right on top of that snotty nose of yours and crush the bullshit out of you. And by bullshit I mean all of your fake smiles, and hypocrisies, and cynicism, and dissimulation, and bitchy remarks said in low voice, and eye-rolls, and backstabbing, and arrogance, and rumors, and lies. Basically, everything you became.
But I won't. I won't. I will carry on with the bullshit. Mommy told me to be polite, and I'm going to be the most polite motherfucking bitch I can possibly be. I will smile when i feel like slapping the shit out of you. I will make small talk when I feel like insulting all the generations of your family that were born after 1800.
Because you don't deserve having me losing my composure over your shitty person.
I'm Celia Foote in a world of Hillys. Watch "The Help" (the movie) and you'll get what I'm saying. And enrich yourselves along the way.
Eat. My. Shit.
Why, you ask? Well, you goddamn know why. You did it on purpose didn't you? It does make you feel important, doesn't it? Being an ass. Being arrogant and standing tall. Being all smug in your high horse of cruelty. It makes you feel superior. I know all about it. How good it feels, knowing that you are hurting others. You think you are winning now.
I know all about it. I can be an idiot too, you know? In fact, I was one. Actually, I AM one. I get a thrill out of making others feel like shit. Stepping on top of them does get me taller. In fact, if I could, I would put my feet right on top of that snotty nose of yours and crush the bullshit out of you. And by bullshit I mean all of your fake smiles, and hypocrisies, and cynicism, and dissimulation, and bitchy remarks said in low voice, and eye-rolls, and backstabbing, and arrogance, and rumors, and lies. Basically, everything you became.
But I won't. I won't. I will carry on with the bullshit. Mommy told me to be polite, and I'm going to be the most polite motherfucking bitch I can possibly be. I will smile when i feel like slapping the shit out of you. I will make small talk when I feel like insulting all the generations of your family that were born after 1800.
Because you don't deserve having me losing my composure over your shitty person.
I'm Celia Foote in a world of Hillys. Watch "The Help" (the movie) and you'll get what I'm saying. And enrich yourselves along the way.
Eat. My. Shit.
