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fandomhigh2008-08-11 01:08 am
notanactualfairy) wrote in fandomhigh2008-08-11 01:08 am
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HOW TO BE A COMPLETE BITCH WITHOUT TRYING, Workshop 6, Period 2 (Monday, August 11)
This week, Tink was seated on the rim of a martini glass, rather lazily smoking a cigarette. One placed in a very chic elongated cigarette holder. And by "lazily" she meant "oh so very stylishly," because as much as those boring PSAs tried to say otherwise, children, everyone knew that smoking looked very, very cool. You could look thoughtful, and exhale the smoke slooowly. You could gesture emphatically with the cigarette, or stub the butt for emphasis. They were tiny portable accessories filled with nicotine! Tink felt fabulous already!
Jean-Paul lounged against the desk, also smoking a cigarette. He looked very French. Of course. He also looked like he didn't care if he was giving the rest of the class lung cancer, because this was bitch class, not health. Really, what did they expect by now?
The French never cared about other people's problems, and that was why they were such natural bitches. Tink approved. And today's class was about an important aspect of being bitchy: remembering that cool far, far outrated stupid considerations like "healthy," "safe" and "legal." Weren't those words boring? Tink was falling asleep already! Who wanted to have healthy, safe legal fun? That person was probably the nerdy kid with headgear who ratted on you for that drunken basement party you threw when your parents were out of town. That nerdy kid, children, would never, ever get laid. Or be cool. Ever.
"Indeed," Jean-Paul agreed. "Which is why today's lesson is about things that are bad for you--and, perhaps, others--but look cool, and so you should do them anyway, and to hell with everyone else and your health. Who wants to live to be eighty anyway?"
Promiscuity, for example! Boring people liked to talk about diseases and babies and losers who didn't get the clue on the "one-night" part of "one-night-stand" and kept texting you, ugh. But why look at the lame, stupid side effects? It was promiscuity. If you let diseases and babies and clingy idiots keep you from having hot, delicious sex with lots and lots of partners, then maybe you deserved to keep your virginity.
"Or you could do the sensible thing and be homosexual, cutting the babies concern out of the picture. No one wants a squalling infant, children. Those who say they do, lie." If there were shadows in Professor Beaubier's eyes there, the sane thing to do would be ignore them. "Sometimes there will even be rules and regulations and laws about things that look cool. Like smoking! You cannot smoke under a certain age; you cannot smoke in a certain place. These are, of course, silly, silly laws designed to keep you down and make everyone look like a nerd."
Laws were so bourgeoisie. They tried to tell you what you could smoke. Cloves and tobacco, those were fine, but pot and crack? Why, those were never allowed! Legislators had to be the most joyless people ever. Not that Tink was advocating that young people use illegal drugs. Not even a mild cocaine habit to keep their weight down, or some ecstasy at a rave if you brought along a pacifier and Vicks Vapo-Rub. Tink wanted to be very clear, here, as she was a inspirational role model to young people and advocating illegal drug use could get her fired.
Jean-Paul blinked at the pixie for a moment, wondering if she would get away with that, before he rallied and said, "Yes, some laws are very silly. Like speeding laws! Why would anyone ever want to go fifty-five miles per hour, I ask of you. It is practically standing still! I can go faster than that on foot!" Jean-Paul could go faster than the speed of sound. But never mind that.
Going fifty-five miles an hour in a sports car was a sin against the car, the roads, and everything bitchiness stood for. Anyone who followed traffic laws in a sexy little car should be dragged out of the car and slapped, and the car given to someone who would appreciate it. Such as Tink. Tink liked to go very fast indeed. And really, red lights were just suggestions, and Tink didn't take kindly to that sort of thing. Excuse her, she was trying to drive here?
"Do not tell that to the officer who pulls you over, though," Jean-Paul suggested. "Getting arrested for a speeding ticket, while bitchy, is very un-chic."
So class! Today they were going to discuss their very favorite things which were bad for you but cool, and whether being bad for you made it even cooler. (Which it usually did.) And they had an assignment! Sometime this week, do something very, very bad for yourself but extremely cool. And children, if they couldn't think of anything like that, ask their teachers or their fabulous TA, so that Tink and Jean-Paul or Chuck could have a very thorough laugh in their faces.
"And after we are done laughing, we will help you. Because we are being paid or graded to, not out of the kindness of our hearts. Have you not yet learned that we do not have hearts? That is the point."
Jean-Paul lounged against the desk, also smoking a cigarette. He looked very French. Of course. He also looked like he didn't care if he was giving the rest of the class lung cancer, because this was bitch class, not health. Really, what did they expect by now?
The French never cared about other people's problems, and that was why they were such natural bitches. Tink approved. And today's class was about an important aspect of being bitchy: remembering that cool far, far outrated stupid considerations like "healthy," "safe" and "legal." Weren't those words boring? Tink was falling asleep already! Who wanted to have healthy, safe legal fun? That person was probably the nerdy kid with headgear who ratted on you for that drunken basement party you threw when your parents were out of town. That nerdy kid, children, would never, ever get laid. Or be cool. Ever.
"Indeed," Jean-Paul agreed. "Which is why today's lesson is about things that are bad for you--and, perhaps, others--but look cool, and so you should do them anyway, and to hell with everyone else and your health. Who wants to live to be eighty anyway?"
Promiscuity, for example! Boring people liked to talk about diseases and babies and losers who didn't get the clue on the "one-night" part of "one-night-stand" and kept texting you, ugh. But why look at the lame, stupid side effects? It was promiscuity. If you let diseases and babies and clingy idiots keep you from having hot, delicious sex with lots and lots of partners, then maybe you deserved to keep your virginity.
"Or you could do the sensible thing and be homosexual, cutting the babies concern out of the picture. No one wants a squalling infant, children. Those who say they do, lie." If there were shadows in Professor Beaubier's eyes there, the sane thing to do would be ignore them. "Sometimes there will even be rules and regulations and laws about things that look cool. Like smoking! You cannot smoke under a certain age; you cannot smoke in a certain place. These are, of course, silly, silly laws designed to keep you down and make everyone look like a nerd."
Laws were so bourgeoisie. They tried to tell you what you could smoke. Cloves and tobacco, those were fine, but pot and crack? Why, those were never allowed! Legislators had to be the most joyless people ever. Not that Tink was advocating that young people use illegal drugs. Not even a mild cocaine habit to keep their weight down, or some ecstasy at a rave if you brought along a pacifier and Vicks Vapo-Rub. Tink wanted to be very clear, here, as she was a inspirational role model to young people and advocating illegal drug use could get her fired.
Jean-Paul blinked at the pixie for a moment, wondering if she would get away with that, before he rallied and said, "Yes, some laws are very silly. Like speeding laws! Why would anyone ever want to go fifty-five miles per hour, I ask of you. It is practically standing still! I can go faster than that on foot!" Jean-Paul could go faster than the speed of sound. But never mind that.
Going fifty-five miles an hour in a sports car was a sin against the car, the roads, and everything bitchiness stood for. Anyone who followed traffic laws in a sexy little car should be dragged out of the car and slapped, and the car given to someone who would appreciate it. Such as Tink. Tink liked to go very fast indeed. And really, red lights were just suggestions, and Tink didn't take kindly to that sort of thing. Excuse her, she was trying to drive here?
"Do not tell that to the officer who pulls you over, though," Jean-Paul suggested. "Getting arrested for a speeding ticket, while bitchy, is very un-chic."
So class! Today they were going to discuss their very favorite things which were bad for you but cool, and whether being bad for you made it even cooler. (Which it usually did.) And they had an assignment! Sometime this week, do something very, very bad for yourself but extremely cool. And children, if they couldn't think of anything like that, ask their teachers or their fabulous TA, so that Tink and Jean-Paul or Chuck could have a very thorough laugh in their faces.
"And after we are done laughing, we will help you. Because we are being paid or graded to, not out of the kindness of our hearts. Have you not yet learned that we do not have hearts? That is the point."
Re: The Assignment (8/11)
Re: The Assignment (8/11)