The Art of Being Fucking Bad-Ass, but with Class.
We all make choices; fucked up as they may. Maybe we flunked civics or sex ed because we were too busy experimenting with life itself. The BJs in the darkroom of photography class or ditching some boring ass lecture so we could get boozed up and grind with some guy or girl we had a crush on. So we got stood up or was the one who didn’t go to Prom Night.
High school is not the time to learn how to get it right. Usually we are still finding out who we are and what the hell makes us want to go crazy while listening to our fav Prince collection. This was before Steve Jobs changed the world as we know it and we still had those dial phones with these long-ass cords. Meaning you had to sit down on a chair or stand in the kitchen so everyone heard your conversation.
The internet, blogging, and the iPhone got Trump elected. The Russians were too busy drinking their Vodka, playing chess in below freezing weather, and bitch-slapping each other (which by the way is a sport in Russia).
Life is too fucking polarized as it is. We could care less about who fucked who or if they had a threesome with some dude and a whore off the street. TMI I know but the 411 is this. What you do with your own body is no one’s fucking business but your own. If it happened three decades ago, so what. Get a goddamn fucking life and stop trying to claim your Lady Gaga Fame at someone else’s expense. God forbid I ever run for office because my college days were full of more bad choices than my change of boxers and those blunts we smoked every night.
We are our own goddamn choices after all. Even if it’s our Starbucks soy milk upside down caramel macchiato latte (hey pretentious bitch, your orders up).
We can make a choice to be bad-ass on our own terms. The alternative is to…
“Stay on your knees, subservient for your (haters), but God (fucking) forbid you enjoy yourself while you’re down there with your mouth (wide) open.” – Sasha Grey from The Janus Chamber 2016
Some of us may get off to the thought of being someone’s slut; professional or otherwise. Others can’t seem to stop sleeping in someone else’s semen-stained unmade bed.
But in the end you must be comfortable in your own skin. Don’t let your past or present define who you are or what you are capable of doing.
Just don’t be someone’s wet dream or used condom-mint.
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